


Discovering Ironworks

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: Plaid and Platinum [1]
Category: Dark City (1998), Mirrors (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Angst and Porn, Background Femslash, Casual Drug Use, Consensual Infidelity, Epic, Everyone Is Gay, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Porn, Rock Stars, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:17:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Musicians work better together, Ben's dad had said, and knowing Ben, Larry quickly realized it was true. Rock 'n Roll was awesome, and it seemed like there was nothing they couldn't do together.<br/>Too bad sex entered into the picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovering Ironworks

**Author's Note:**

> A series of rock band AU fics written over the past three years. Lots of sex. It's how I roll.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer before Larry Byrne's 8th grade is rough: his parents are newly divorced, he hates his father's new girlfriend, and he's been dragged to the other side of the city to live in her dump in Queens. On top of all this, he's supposed to stop being angry long enough to figure out his high school applications. Fortunately a chance discovery of a kindred spirit makes things a little better.

 

**Discovering Ironworks**

*******

 

I've heard it said that people can reinvent themselves every eight years, but by the time I was thirteen I knew two things for certain that became the backbone of my life:

One, I was going to be a rock star.

Two, I was going to do it with Ben Carson.

I'd been twelve when we met, the summer after my parents divorced. They'd sold the beautiful Manhattan apartment we'd lived in together, along with the beautiful baby grand piano I'd been playing since I was five. My mother went back to live with her family in Ireland and the first day of summer vacation my father trucked us out to a dumpy two bedroom townhouse in Queens that was owned by a woman he loved and I hated.

"Larry, you'll like it in Queens," he tried to tell me as we carried boxes into my new bedroom. "We'll get a bigger house soon, one with a yard you can play in with your friends."

I knew he was just trying to make me feel better about Mom leaving when he didn't say anything about the glare I shot him. I knew how dumb it was to expect that any of my friends were going to come all the way to Queens. I was going to have the most boring summer vacation ever. "I don't want a yard, I don't care about Queens. I want my baby grand."

"We'll get you a keyboard then, a nice one. Any one you like. And a great pair of headphones to go with it. You can practice for your LaGuardia audition whenever you want."

 

I could tell he was really trying, but it didn't make me feel any better. And reminding me about my upcoming high school applications just made me feel worse. Mom had been the one to encourage my application for the _Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts_. What was the point of busting my ass to try and get in if she wasn't even around for it? "Whatever."

"You even can go shopping for one while I'm at work if you want. Oh, Angelica found a bike you can use, it's in the garage."     

After three days of laying around the house and feeling sorry for myself, I was finally desperate enough to check out the bike. It was brand new, the body a shining emerald green, but I wasn't cheered by the obvious care Dad's girlfriend had put into getting it. I knew it would be easier if we could just hate each other, and logically she had every reason to hate me. I looked like my mom, who'd been a fashion model when she'd married my father; I had her thick red hair and blue eyes and generous mouth. Angelica was young and fake looking and part of me was still holding onto hope that my dad would come to his senses and things could go back to the way they used to be.

Still, I took the bike.

I felt even more like an alien as I rode up and down the streets around Angelica's house. The kids I saw were playing sports or running through sprinklers with shaggy-haired mutts. It wasn't my world at all.

I reached a main road filled with storefronts and bought a coke slurpee from the convenience store with pocket change. I was about to give up on finding anything to do and go home when I caught a glance of the sign.

_Ironworks Music_

Remembering what my father had said about the keyboard, I started towards it. Maybe I could see if he felt guilty enough to buy me one of the high-end Yamahas....

 

I locked my bike to the parking lot fence and headed for the front door. The place looked like it had been around since the seventies, but a lot of music stores were eclectic like that. But after pushing my way through the front door I stopped short.

I looked to be in some kind of a waiting room and not a music store at all. The black leather couches seemed at odds with the slightly dingy blue shag carpet, and the coffee table had a few music magazines strewn on it.

A desk took up the back third of the room, one side piled high with files. A blond boy who looked about my age sat perched on one corner holding a shining black electric guitar with a gold sunburst on the body, and even though it looked far too big for him he seemed to be able to handle it. He had one foot up on the amp it was plugged into, a pair of large headphones over his ears that he tugged down as he looked up at me. "Can I help you?

"I - um. Do you sell musical instruments?" It was a dumb question, and I felt my ears burn as soon as the words left my mouth. Of course they didn't.

The boy snorted softly. "We're a recording studio. Try Guitar Works, you can get a Fender Squire there for cheap in any color of the rainbow."

Something about him made me immediately want to impress him. "Actually, I was in the market for a Yamaha Clavinova PF P-100."

The boy looked back up at me, blue eyes narrowing slightly as he took a moment to look me over. "That's a pretty serious stage keyboard."

"Maybe I'm going to be a rock star." I'm not sure what made the words leave my mouth, but I felt a thrill of excitement as they did. It was the first exciting thing I'd thought about since my mother left. That had to mean something, didn't it?"

"Yeah?" The boy took the headphones off all together, setting the guitar aside as he hopped off the desk. He seemed less guarded now, more curious. "You have fifteen hundred bucks to throw around?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. Parents just got divorced. Can't hurt to see how far Dad's 'I'm Sorry' money goes."

He nodded slowly, giving a soft hum. "You're stuck with your dad too, hey?"

I glanced away for a moment, hesitating. But as much as the reminder hurt, it was kind of relieving to talk about it. "Yeah. Mom took off to Ireland." I glanced back at him. "I'm Larry, by the way."

"Ben. Mine took my baby brother back to Germany four years ago. Parents are dumb."

"Parents are dumb!" The words came out angrily before I could stop them. "He didn't even ask me what I wanted. He sold my baby grand and moved me to bloody _Queens_ and I don't even know anyone here! I'm almost thirteen, I'm old enough to make my own bloody decisions!"

Ben just nodded amicably. "Definitely owes you a fifteen hundred dollar keyboard."

"Yeah." I let out a long breath, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to - and I'm sure Queens is...."

"It's cool. Hey, you wanna hang out here for a bit? Dad's got a PF-85 in one of the studios, we can play around with it a bit between sessions and you can see what you think." His lips widened into a teasing smile. "Though then you'll know somebody in Queens and you might actually start to like it here."

His words awoke a strange warmth inside me, and I found myself returning the smile. "Might not be such a bad thing."

I spent almost every day that summer at either the studio or Ben's house. He was going into eighth grade and prepping for a LaGuardia audition too, which was the perfect excuse for me to avoid my father and Angelica and dull Sunday dinners with her siblings. I'm sure my father would have preferred my presence, but he seemed happy enough that I'd found a friend in Queens that he didn't question it.

Mr. Carson's studio was always busy, with musicians coming and going, and no-one seemed to mind a couple of kids in the waiting room talking music. I liked Ben's dad almost immediately. He seemed to know more about music than anyone I'd ever met, and unlike my father, made me feel like music could be an actual serious career choice.

"I'm glad Ben's bringing you around," he told me as we dug into boxes of Chinese takeout one hot afternoon in late July. "Not a lot of guys are dedicated enough to make a career in music, and dedication's really important at your age."

I swallowed the piece of lemon chicken in my mouth and looked up at him. "Dad thinks LaGuardia's a pipe dream. Do you think I have a chance of getting in?"

"Of course you do," Ben replied, but Mr. Carson regarded me quietly for a long moment.

"It depends," he said finally, blue eyes watching mine. "Everyone stands a chance. You have a good ear, good pitch and exceptional skill as a pianist. But there's a lot of very good pianists, Larry."

His words were too similar to my own worries, and I fought to keep my disappointment off my face. "So... not a very good chance."

"I didn't say that." Mr. Carson smiled, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling kindly. "I think you have an exceptional opportunity right now. You have months before your audition, you have a studio full of instruments that I'm happy to make available to you whenever they're not booked. Diversify. Sing, start composing, learn the guitar from Ben, hell, play the cowbell if you want. Show them that you're interested in being more than just a pianist."

For a moment I could only stare at him. "You - you'd let me use your studio?"

Mr. Carson nodded slowly, turning his gaze to Ben. "Musicians work better together."

***

I thought about what he'd said after I'd gone home that night, through breakfast the next morning, and as I biked to the studio the next day. By the time I'd grabbed a couple of Fudgsicles from the convenience store and met Ben in the reception I'd made up my mind.

"I think I've got it," I said, handing him one of the popsicles before tearing off the wrapper on my own.

"Yeah?" Ben ripped into his, quickly licking off a drip on the melting bottom.

"I've spent the past seven years playing scales to a metronome for an hour a day. I can keep time in my sleep. So I'm gonna learn percussion."

Ben thought about that for a moment, then smiled, nodding slowly. "Dad always says drummers are the most in-demand player in a rock band. I bet he'd let us take the old house set back to my basement so we can practice together whenever."

I'd been thinking orchestral, but at his mention of rock bands I felt that thrill of excitement in the pit of my stomach again, and when I looked at Ben I could see the same spark in his blue eyes.

I found myself smiling. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be your drummer. That'll be perfect."

*****


	2. And a Bottle of Jack

“It still okay for me to stay over this weekend?” Ben asked as we met at our locker after class. There was a slightly mischievous glint in his eye that I was sure reflected my own enthusiasm for spending a lazy, indulgent weekend laying around listening to music and watching movies. No adults, and definitely no school work. Well, maybe some practicing and composition work, but no boring school work.

I grinned and nodded. My dad had broken up with Angelica at the beginning of our grade eleven year, moving us back to a little apartment in Manhattan. I was disappointed to leave Queens and my close proximity to Ben’s house and his father’s studio, but being close to school meant that it was super convenient for us to hang out at my place. Mr. Carson didn’t ever seem to mind Ben staying over, even if we were there alone when my father went away on business trips. We’d both displayed too much dedication to our music to be wooed away by irresponsible high school parties and other shenanigans.

That didn’t stop me from feeling a thrill of excitement when Ben opened his backpack to show me the mostly-full mickey of Jack Daniels. “Jesus, where’d you get that?”

He grinned. “Found it when I was cleaning the studio. Not a bad tip, hey?”

“For sure.”

After dinner I poured generous portions of the whiskey over ice and added cola as Ben made a selection from the stack of movies we’d picked up. On a whim, we’d gone with a bit of a Rock’n’Roll theme - everything from ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ and ‘Sid & Nancy’ to ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’. He turned towards the kitchen. “Wanna watch Velvet Goldmine?”

I brought the tumblers into the living room, setting the still half-full bottle of Jack between them on the coffee table. We’d piled my father’s sectional with pillows and blankets and stripped down to boxers and t-shirts in anticipation of marathoning into the wee hours of the morning. “Sure. That’s the glam rock one, right? I heard it was a bit… gay….”

“Wasn’t all glam rock?” Ben grinned, popping the movie in and settling next to me. The ease of his reply made a wave or relief wash through me. Sexuality wasn’t something we had talked about much. It had taken every ounce of courage for me to tell him last semester that I thought I was probably more interested in boys than girls; mostly true, I knew I only liked boys. Ben had just grinned and shrugged, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’ll be the next David Bowie, then,” he’d replied, and his blasé acceptance meant far too much for me to threaten it by bringing the subject up again. So while Ben had casually dated a number of girls from our year, I’d kept to myself. I didn’t ever want Ben to feel uncomfortable around me. It surprised me that he’d picked out this film, but maybe it was his subtle way of trying to make me feel comfortable and accepted.

That was the thought I kept in my mind throughout the movie, and it was enough to keep me from feeling more than a little awkward at how arousing it was to watch a grunged-out, sexy Ewan McGregor jump around stage with his dick out. Ben kept both our glasses topped up until we were basically drinking just straight whiskey over melting ice cubes, and as the warm heaviness of the alcohol spread through my limbs I felt giddy and happy and safe. By the time Christian Bale and Ewan McGregor had their hot steamy sex scene I was drunk enough that I could enjoy it without feeling self-conscious at how aroused it made me.

The movie was the first time I’d seen on-screen romantic relationships between men in any detail, and as it came to a close I was left with a strange, almost melancholy sense of longing. Not for what they had, not when all the characters had ended up alone, but for a romantic relationship that would withstand all the trouble that theirs did not. A partnership that would stay solid no matter where my career took me or how far I travelled or how the music industry changed.

How many rock stars ever found that, though? Every couple I could think of had ended tragically, and they were all straight. How much harder would it be for me to find someone?

I was so caught up in my thoughts that it hardly registered when Ben moved from where he’d been sprawled on the couch beside me, leaning in close to meet my gaze. “Can I try something?” he asked softly, and I murmured agreement without thinking to ask what. Then Ben’s fingers were sliding into my hair, tilting my face up to press his lips to mine, soft and warm and lingering.

Equal parts shock and arousal froze me in place. I drew a sharp gasp against his lips, heart pounding wildly in my ears. Ben had kissed me once before when we were much younger, and I’d written it off to the giddy sugar high of too many popsicles. It was the sum total of my experience with kissing until now. I whimpered despite myself as our lips parted, and Ben’s fingers tightened in my hair, giving a low, helpless-sounding groan as he kissed me again.

Whatever was happening, I wanted more. My body reacted instinctively, fingers tangling in his t-shirt to pull him closer as my lips parted to his. Our kisses were wet and messy and a little awkward, but I didn’t care; it felt too good to be close to him, to feel his fingers clench at my back hungrily as he moaned against my lips.

Soon enough our lips found harmony, and I lost myself in the pleasure of kissing him, lips parting to the press of his tongue, sucking hungrily on his bottom lip as he nipped at mine. I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect, and I let Ben urge me back into the crook of the sectional, stroking my hands down to clench at the small of his back. Anything he wanted, anything to keep his lips pressed to mine. I felt nearly dizzy with joy and pleasure, my pulse still racing, barely managing to gasp for breath when our lips parted before he claimed my mouth again.

Ben leaned closer, pushing one knee between my thighs so that he could kneel over me, pressing me back into the cushions. I could feel my cock grow harder, straining against the front of my boxers, and I felt a spike of panic. He was too close, he’d feel me, he’d know –

Before my panic could make me push him away, Ben stretched out against me, groaning against my mouth through kisses that were quickly becoming more frantic. One of his hands smoothed down to grab my ass, and a shock of arousal ran down my spine at the realization that he was as hard as I was. I arched my hips up against him instinctively. The sensation that pulsed though me from the heat and pressure of his body against my constrained erection was overwhelming. Better than pleasuring myself, far better than I’d ever imagined it could be.

Ben’s fingers dug into the flesh of my ass as his hips met mine again, pulling me closer as we rocked together with frantic need. “God, Lar – “ His words were a stuttering gasp against my mouth as he bit and sucked at my bottom lip. I could only whimper in reply, drunk on the pleasure of his body and his kisses as much as I was on the whiskey. I couldn’t think of anything but him, this heat between us, needing more sensation.

I bucked up against him helplessly, fingers clenched tight in his hair, digging into his back. “Fuck, Ben!” The whimper left my lips, and I closed my eyes to the grind of his cock against mine. My toes clenched on the couch cushions for purchase, pleasure shuddering helplessly though my body, back arched and head thrown back as Ben buried his face in the crook of my neck.

“Fuck - !” He bucked tense against me with a helpless cry, hips rutting against mine with quick, hard jerks, and the moment I realized he was coming my own orgasm overwhelmed me. The shocked realization that I’d come in my boxers was quickly eclipsed by pleasure, and all I could do was hold tight to him, returning the breathless kisses he pressed to my lips as I tried to catch my breath.

I thousand questions rushed through my mind, but as Ben drew back to look down at me the sweet, completely contented smile on his lips pushed away all of them. “Didn’t really mean for that to happen,” he murmured a little sheepishly. Then he kissed me again gently, and despite everything I couldn’t help but laugh, winding my arms around him and returning his kiss. “I feel like a fucking rock star.”

“Rock stars that need new pants,” I replied, which set him to laughing as well, cuddling close as he dotted soft kisses over my skin, finally nestling his face into my hair, breath warm on my ear.

“I really like kissing you,” he said softly, arms tightening around me a little. “Do you think we could maybe do more of that later…?”

Despite being spent, I felt both a thrill of arousal and a surge of adoration for him. “I’d like that,” I managed to reply, clearing my throat to keep the sudden flood of emotion from my voice. “I only have one pair of PJ pants to lend you, though, so there’s going to have to be less clothes next time.”

Ben’s gaze was intent as he drew back to look down at me, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’m okay with that,” he said huskily, and I felt my heart catch in my throat again.

A million questions ran through my mind again, about what Ben wanted and felt and if this was as serious for him as it suddenly felt for me, but I pushed them all away. I’d work up the courage to ask him another time. For now, all I wanted to do was revel in our intimacy and the dream that just maybe I could have that perfect romantic partnership I wanted so badly.

~~~


	3. Looping Pedal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben shows off a new birthday present. Warnings for consensual sex between two slightly underage boys and smoking and a bit of casual drug use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: casual pot smoking. Sorry. I'm Candian. Not Sorry. :p

**Looping Pedal**

***

 

            Ben was leaning against our shared locker when I got out of percussion class at lunch. We'd both made it into LaGuardia Arts, and had ranked high enough on our musical theory assessments that we'd been able to skip the introductory levels and fit some extra electives into our grade twelve year. I'd been accepted into Advanced Percussion, and while it was strange to have a class without Ben it was exactly the experience I needed.

Ben was fresh out of Orchestration, which I thought was overkill for what we wanted to do and often sent him into creative tangents involving rock music with a full string section. Today's topic was much less foreign. He gave me a wide smile, stepping back and opening the locker door for me. "Come home with me after school. I got a new looping pedal."

            "Really?" I grabbed my lunch bag and turned to face him, leaning against the locker beside ours. "Where'd you get the new pedal?"

            "Arrived in the mail yesterday, it's an early birthday gift from Daniel and mom. Well, more from Daniel and mom's money." He grinned, shoving his textbooks onto the top shelf and grabbing his jacket. "It's a Boss, I can record eleven different loops up to sixteen minutes each, and it... you just have to see it."

            "Sure. Sounds awesome." It wasn't like I didn't normally end up at Ben's house after school anyway. It was within walking distance of my father's place, and apart from having a basement jam studio we could play in as much as we wanted, it also had a huge advantage over any other place we could go: no parents. Ben's dad kept working musician hours with his recording studio, meaning he wasn't usually home until eight or nine at night. I wondered sometimes why my dad didn't suspect anything about what I got up to... but then again, Ben and I had been a constant since my father and I had moved in with my step-mother when I was twelve. And we made sure to spend a decent chunk of time at my house as well, always doing homework and normal, respectable things that good boys did and were nothing like what we did at Ben's.

            We disappeared downstairs into the basement when we got back to his house after school, and Ben latched the basement door from the inside. He followed me down, tossing me a small tin of mints from inside the pocket of his guitar case. Inside were two neatly rolled joints and a small lighter. "Spark one up."

            "Sweet." It wasn't a constant indulgence, not like a lot of the kids we met through playing or some of the musicians that used the studio. Partly it was because we couldn't afford it - we both helped at the studio on weekends, schlepping equipment for musicians and doing random odd jobs, but it was more for the experience than what Ben's dad paid us. It did get us the occasional gig being roadies for local bands, and they paid a bit better. Sometimes in weed. Hopefully once we were both eighteen we could get more steady work. Still, my promised graduation present of my own drum set was dependent on getting at least a B in all my classes, so pot was saved for afternoons where the only thing on the agenda was playing music.

            I lit the joint as Ben opened the basement window, taking a hoot before passing it to Ben and lighting a cigarette. "So, show me this pedal."

            "For sure." He traded me the lit joint for my cigarette, turning on a table lamp and the halogen in the corner before turning off the overhead light, leaving the basement cast in a dim golden glow. Then he took down a shiny red pedal from on top of one of the amps, hooking it up to his distortion pedal before plugging in his guitar. "It's going to give our sound so much more complexity live, I've already started working out loops for a bunch of the songs. Wanna jam for a bit to warm up and then we can play through a set and I'll show you what I've got?"

            I shrugged, handing him back the joint, already starting to feel the warm, lazy sense of well-being seeping into my limbs. "Sure. You call the shots, boss."

            We finished the joint and cigarette as we finished setting up, turning on the amps and plugging in Ben's guitar. Then I settled on the worn drum stool behind the drums, which in another life had been the house kit at Ben's father's studio. We'd rescued it a few years ago, brought it home and patched it up with electrical tape, replacing the heads one by one whenever we had money. I ran through a couple rudiments and sat back, twirling the sticks around my fingers. "Show me what you've got."

            "Show off," Ben replied, grinning, testing and tuning his strings before starting to play. "Give me a simple four four?"

            I watched him fall in line with my beat, patterns of notes forming a melody, then repeating. He started the pedal, playing through it again, and when he hit the pedal again the melody continued to loop. I set down my drum sticks for a bit, just watching him play, hitting the pedal with his foot to layer more sound on top of the loop, each repetition more intricate than the last until he seemed satisfied, stopping the recording and looking up at me with a grin as the loop continued to play. "Cool, hey?"

            "It's awesome," I replied, picking up my sticks again and doing a double roll from the hi hat across to the snare, letting my body fall into rhythm with his notes, losing myself to the hard pulse of the base drum and the crash of the cymbals. Ben turned on the distortion on his guitar, elaborations on the melody turning into verses, a chorus, a wailing solo and bridge. I could do this for hours with Ben, lost in the play of the music and the thick weight of the drug, everything feeling more focused, more real.

            Ben flicked on the amp for the microphone somewhere along the lines, throaty voice singing half-nonsense lyrics over the guitar. “ _You stop and look in every mirror, gotta make sure you're still there, synchronicity's just perfection, too busy looking to see the world..._ "

            God, he was sexy when he played.

            Ben caught my gaze and shot me a grin, something about the look in his eyes dark and deliciously promising, as if he could read my mind. He abandoned the mic to saunter back behind my drumset, and I abandoned the drums to spin around on the stool as he moved, watching him with a little smile, liking the proximity and anticipating more. "What are you doing?"

            "Just playing around," Ben replied, glancing up at me with a smile still teasing the corners of his mouth. Then he stepped forward, guitar and all, straddling my lap and perching on my knees, fingers continuing to move on the strings between us. I let my hands rest on his thighs, stroking slowly up and down and watching his smile grow, though his attention stayed on the guitar, on lazy notes picked out over the pulse and throb of the backing loop as he continued improvised lyrics. " _The mirror's cracked like spider's silk and you can't really see what's there...._ "

            "I like the pedal," I murmured, and unable to resist the temptation of Ben on my lap, stroked my hands up to cup his hips, thumbs stroking circles on his hip bones through his jeans.

            "Me too," he breathed, leaning over the guitar to catch my mouth hungrily. I gave a soft moan, returning his kiss with just as much enthusiasm and feeling a spark of arousal rush down my spine to my cock. My hands slipped back more to cup and clench his ass, kneading and encouraging him closer. The little throaty, needy groan he gave against my lips made me even harder, tasting Ben's mouth as his lips parted to mine, lost to the taste and the heat of our kisses as my hands stroked and squeezed the well muscled globes of his ass. It was a little surreal, with the loop still playing, Ben's fingers still finding a few distracted notes. All I wanted to do was move the guitar away so I could pull him closer, pull open his jeans and wrap my fingers around his cock.

            "Fuck," he breathed, squirming a little more on my lap, and I was sure by that time he must be as hard as I was. I felt him move the guitar, but instead of pulling it away he pressed the base between us more, firm against my jeans where my erection now strained against them. Then he gave a little thrust with his hips, pushing against it, pushing it more into me.

            "Oh god." I couldn't help but grind up against it, needing more sensation, loving the way it made him whimper and squirm. "God, this is so perverse."

            "Humping my guitar?" Ben's voice was thick with desire and amusement both, grinding harder against me and nipping at my bottom lip. "I thought you found it sexy."

            "It is," I replied, kissing him again, more desperately, all heat and tongue and teeth. "Not as sexy as you."

            Ben's reply was a wordless whimper and a harder thrust, hips rolling against the guitar and mine as we fell into rhythm. It was tantalizing, having him squirming on my lap, hands stroking over my sides and sliding under my shirt. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. I fumbled with the strap on his guitar to undo it, and he pulled it away without argument, setting it against the wall before pressing closer to me, hips grinding against mine as he pulled my t-shirt up over my head. I stripped him of his own just as easily, stroking my hands over his back and shoulders, loving the firm, toned muscles under his skin.

            "You make me so hard," Ben breathed, sucking hungrily on my bottom lip, reaching between us to tug at my jeans. I helped him, getting his undone as well, boxers pulled aside so I could wrap my fingers around his cock and my own, pressing them together and pulling on them slowly, groaning as Ben gasped and bucked against me.

            "Couch," I murmured, letting go of him for him to pull away and stand. I half wished that I had the balls to ask him to let me fuck him; to pull the rest of his clothes off and pull him back down onto my lap on the drum stool, pull him down onto my cock. But he'd never shown any inclination of wanting to switch, and I didn't want to freak him out. Instead I pressed him into the crook of the couch, stretching out with him and claiming his mouth again, hips rocking against his as we kissed. The head of his cock was damp with arousal when I curled my fingers around him, slicking my thumb through it to smooth it down his shaft, loving the feel of his cock in my hand. "You're so fucking hard...."

            "Your fault," he gasped back, reaching down to stroke me in kind, his grip familiar and perfect, somehow stroking me better than I could ever do it myself.

            "Oh fuck..." I picked up the pace, gasping against his mouth through breathless kisses, hips bucking up into his fingers as desire pooled hot in my stomach. "Oh god, Ben, oh fuck...!"

            "Love it when you get like this," Ben hissed, stroking me a little more firmly, mouth falling to suck and nip at my neck hungrily, biting at my shoulder. "Love jerking you off."

            "You're so dirty," I managed to gasp, closing my eyes to the sensation and rocking up into his fist, my fingers flying over his cock. "Gonna make me come so hard...!"

            "Do it." The command was growled against my neck, punctuated with a sharp bite, and I couldn't help but come, jerking into his fingers as pleasure rushed hot through my body. I managed to keep jerking him through it, hearing him curse breathlessly, bucking up against me as my fingers flooded with warmth. I slowed, fingers smoothing over his cock until he pulled back with a soft whimper, gasping for breath as he looked up at me with a lazy, blissed out grin.

            I returned the smile, leaning in to kiss him warmly, staying curled with him. "... I like this loop."

            Ben laughed, kiss warm and languid and sated. "Never jerked off listening to my own music before. Glad you like the pedal."

            "Love it," I replied, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. "We still have baby wipes down here?"

            "In the end table," Ben replied, only pouting a little as I pulled away to go get them. "That was a really good idea."

            I grinned in reply, taking one and handing him the rest. "Wanna play through a set?"

            Ben nodded, tossing the wipes and refastening his jeans, ignoring his discarded t-shirt and re-claiming his guitar before turning off the loop. "Yeah. It's going to be great."

*****

 


	4. A Night on the Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben leaves it up to his best friend to take his visiting younger brother out on the town. And OUT on the town.

**A Night on the Town**

***

 

The first time I met Daniel Schreber my immediate reaction was an incredulous disbelief that there was another Ben in the the world. Even for brothers, the resemblance was striking, and I had to force myself to notice the differences between the two. Daniel was younger, of course, smaller and more slight, tending more towards boyishness while Ben was manly. His appearance was also more put together - polished and refined next to Ben’s rugged rock star look. Daniel was pristine in well tailored gray slacks and a matching vest over a black dress shirt, fresh from a scholarship interview with New York’s Fashion Institute of Technology when we picked him up. His short blond hair was neatly styled next to Ben’s sandy mop of spikes, and the old fashioned wire-rimmed glasses he wore completed the serious, scholarly look.

The serious facade was completely broken as soon as he saw Ben. He gave an excited exclamation that was almost a squeal, throwing his arms around Ben’s shoulders for a tight hug. “Ben! _Mein Gott_ , it’s been too long!”

“Holy fuck, you’re so big!” Ben caught his brother in just as tight of an embrace, laughing and half staggering back. “How the hell are you so tall?”

“Because I was fifteen the last time you saw me in person,” Daniel replied, smiling, pressing a kiss to Ben’s cheek. “I’m so happy to see you, _mein Herz_.”

I chuckled softly under my breath at his words - neither of them could be called particularly tall, but the idea of a tiny teenaged Daniel made him even more endearing. He pulled back from Ben to smile at Amy. “Amy, yes? So happy to finally meet you. Thank you so much for holding off the wedding for me. It means so much.”

Ben’s fiancee took his offered hand with a laugh. “Oh, don’t thank me, I wanted to elope to Vegas.”

“We’re still practically eloping,” Ben muttered, but smiled anyway. “The wedding’s going to be amazing. I’m so glad you could make it.”

“I only wish I could have come sooner,” Daniel replied with a smile. He turned from Amy to me, then, eyes lingering just a little longer than necessary as he glanced over me with a smile, then offered his hand. “And you must be Larry. Ben has told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Even if Ben hadn’t told me that his brother swung the same way I did his interest would have still been noticeable. I gave in to the sudden urge to be flirtatiously chivalrous, taking his hand and lifting it to my lips to press a kiss to the back. “At the risk of sounding cliched, the pleasure is all mine.” Or, if things went well, both of ours, I added mentally, deciding in that moment that I was definitely taking this beautiful boy home with me that night.

***

Daniel had flown in a day earlier, officially for the scholarship interview. Hopefully more of a formality, he’d explained - the school already liked his portfolio enough to provide accommodations on campus and pay almost half of the plane ticket over. Ben had paid the other half, calling it a wedding expense - he and Amy had been engaged for almost 10  months, but he’d refused to contemplate the idea of holding the ceremony without Daniel in attendance. They didn’t mention their mother, but I knew Ben’s relationship with her was strained already - too much of his father’s wild spirit in him, I assumed. I knew as well that she offered no support of Daniel’s decision to pursue fashion, which I thought was ridiculous.

“Ben showed me your portfolio,” I told him as we settled into a booth for dinner. “You’re really good.”

“You think so?” The tips of Daniel’s ears turned noticeably pink, but he was otherwise glowing with pride. “The mens, or the women’s designs?”

“Well, I’d only wear the men’s clothing, personally,” I answered with a grin. “Though all of it’s good. Very stylish. It’s not easy to find men’s clothing here that has real flair.”

“It’s true,” Daniel agreed, turning away from me long enough to pour over the wine list with Ben and make a recommendation. Then he smiled at me again. “Perhaps when I’m designing here you will have to model for me. It’s difficult to find men with the right look.”

I quirked an eyebrow, smiling, intrigued. “The right look?”

“Yes.” Daniel straightened, looking me over again. “Tall enough for the runway. Well built and masculine without being bulky. Rugged but still striking. The fashion world tends towards waifs right now. I don’t like that for my designs. You would be perfect.”

I held my tongue on a witty one-liner about personal fittings. “I’m sure I could manage to swing some free time. Right, Ben?”

Ben was watching us with a strange expression that I couldn’t quite place, and he gave a small, fond smile. “Yeah, for sure.”

The conversation throughout dinner was mostly the two of them catching up, though Daniel included me with a natural ease, as if I’d been part of the family as well. Though I suppose I’d known Ben long enough that I might as well have been. I wasn’t surprised when Daniel’s hand found mine on the banquette bench between us, though the idea of Ben’s younger brother trying to pick _me_ up instead of the other way around was strangely amusing. It was also strange to be trying to seduce someone over a respectable dinner instead of just being obvious and straightforward like I’d be at my normal haunts.

When Ben excused himself to use the washroom Amy followed soon after, not having been particularly engaged in the conversation throughout the night anyway. I glanced down at our joined hands on the bench and gave Daniel my most inviting smile. “Well. This is a nice turn of events.”

He returned the smile, attitude halfway between coy and inviting, and it only made him more endearing. “I thought so. Do you have plans for the rest of the evening? I had hoped to see some of New York’s nightlife, but I’m afraid that I don’t know anyone here other than Ben.”

“I could show you a few places,” I offered, and watched his smile widen.

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble. Let me put it this way.” I leaned closer to him, lowering my voice and finally giving my tongue free rein. “If this were a gay bar I’d be blowing you in the bathroom right now.”

Daniel drew a soft breath, and though the tips of his ears flushed again he kept his composure remarkably well. “That is a rather salacious tease, Mr. Byrne.”

“A promise, not a tease,” I murmured in reply, squeezing his hand. I leaned back as I caught sight of Ben on his way back. “Your English is very good, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Daniel looked pleased. “Thank you. It’s part of schooling in Germany to study two languages, and _Mutter_ was insistent I choose English. The scientific language, she said. I would have chosen it in any case. I lived in New York until I was six, and frequent conversations with Ben have helped me stay proficient.”

“Or at least in slang and cursing and bad grammar,” Ben replied with a grin and a shrug, settling back into his seat on the other side of the table. He leaned over to kiss Amy on the cheek as she joined us again. “Anyone for dessert?”

“Ben, I have to fit into my dress....” Amy’s reply was almost an instant whine, and I tried to ignore the fact that the upcoming wedding had turned her into more of a diva than half the queens I knew.

“I’m good as well,” I agreed, having long ago discovered that the best way to keep the peace in the band was to make Amy feel like she was getting her own way. “We should find some place with good music for a couple of drinks, though.”

Amy shook her head again. “I have stuff to do. I can catch a cab home, though.”

“It’s okay, I should head home too. Dinner’s on me tonight.” Ben agreed, signalling the waiter for the bill. He looked up at me, then, hesitating a moment before saying, “You guys should go out.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Daniel said quickly, but I shook my head.

“It’s no trouble, I didn’t have any plans.”

Ben gave a nod, and the same strange little smile he’d had earlier. “You take care of my baby brother, you hear?”

“Cross my heart,” I replied with a grin. “I’ll keep him away from the hookers and blow.”

“You’d better,” Ben replied with an easier smile. He looked to Daniel. “Lunch with Dad tomorrow’s at 12:30, _liebling_. I’ll pick you up at the campus at noon?”

“I would appreciate that.” Daniel stood with his brother, giving him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

I resisted the urge to suggest going home immediately. “There’s a couple places nearby we can head to if you like, do you mind the walk?”

“Walking off dinner sounds perfect,” he replied, slipping his arm into mine as we turned the corner away from the restaurant.

“I suppose I should ask this,” I said as we started down the street, trying to do the math in my head, “But are you legal, or do I need to plan on sneaking you into bars?”

Daniel chuckled and opened his wallet, wordlessly handing me what I assumed was a German driver’s license. I peered at it. “... I thought you were three years younger than Ben?”

“Four,” he corrected, a little smile playing about the corners of his mouth. “I have friends in Germany who are talented with such things.”

I handed it back. “I’m impressed. It’ll certainly come in handy if you end up going to school here.”

“I’ll only need it for a few months when I do. If I am accepted to FIT’s scholarship program I still have this year of classes at home, then they will pay for my final one here. More economical that way. And it will help me build contacts in both markets.” He glanced down with a little fond smile. “I’m very much looking forward to being able to see Ben more often. And seeing all of you perform.”

“Well, we do have the Europe tour coming up in the spring, too. If you’re not too busy with school we’ll get you into the media section then. We can hang out before we leave town.”

Daniel smiled widely, his voice lowering, taking on the same kind of timbre and huskiness I was used to from Ben, and it made me shiver. “I’d like that very much.”

The club we arrived at was a regular haunt for me, and even if the bouncer had questioned Daniel’s ID I would have been able to talk my way past it. Inside was a familiar crowd, and for a few hours there was nothing but drinking and dancing and introducing Daniel to the people and nightlife of New York. I let my flirting become more obvious, hardly able to keep my hands off of him, and Daniel only seemed to encourage it, body warm against mine as he wrapped his arms up around my neck on the dance floor.

“You’re exquisite,” I murmured against his hair, stroking my hands down his back to cup his ass and feeling very much like if I didn’t get him somewhere private I was going to break all laws of decency right there on the dance floor - too much, even for a gay bar. “Come with me. Let me keep my promise from earlier.”

I felt Daniel shiver against me, and when he pulled back his pupils were blown wide in the darkness of the club. He gave a little nod, hand slipping into the back pocket of my jeans as I slipped through the crowd. I took him downstairs to the slightly less populated bar in the club and the bathrooms beyond that, where I knew it would be quiet enough to find an empty stall. Daniel caught my mouth with his as I pushed him up against the wall, kisses heated and needy and sweet with liquor, and I gave a low groan, returning them with just as much hunger. I let my hands stroke hungrily over his hips and thighs, rocking against him and feeling him harden against me as we kissed, each rock of our bodies drawing an incredibly gratifying gasp from his lips.

“Should we go to your apartment?” he managed to whisper, and I pulled back, stroking a hand down to cup him through his slacks.

“Soon,” I murmured, watching Daniel’s eyes fall closed as he rocked up into my touch almost helplessly. “Now, if you like. But I thought it might be better to take the edge off here first. Is that alright?”

“Please,” he answered, voice husky, sending a spike of desire down my spine to my already hard cock. I captured his mouth again as I tugged at his belt and the closure of his slacks, sucking and nipping at the lips that were just as beautiful as his brother’s. He managed to help me with his clothes, and when I could finally wrap my hand around his cock I didn’t hesitate before dropping to my knees and swallowing him to the hilt.

“God, Larry - !” Daniel choked back a cry, fingers clenching tightly in my hair as his body jerked tense under the onslaught of pleasure. I briefly considered, then discarded the option of taking my time, knowing that we were both too far gone for that kind of patience. Instead I slipped a hand to cup his balls, reveling in the taste of his arousal and the weight of his cock between my lips, in the gasped whispers of encouragement that were only half in English that slipped from his mouth as I blew him. If I’d been more sober it might have been a little strange how alike he and his brother were - even the taste of him made me think of Ben - but in the moment I didn’t care. Ben was getting married in three days, and I had the most charming boy in New York squirming under my attentions.

Daniel’s passion was heady, and I had to press the heel of my free hand against my own aching cock, glad to be wearing dark jeans. I’d always loved the pleasure and intensity of giving head, especially to a partner as responsive as Daniel, his fingers clenching at my hair and shoulders, body tense and shuddering under me as I sucked him. Even when he gasped my name in warning I continued, swallowing him to the hilt as he gave a choked gasp and came down my throat.

I swallowed around him, finally easing back, licking him clean and sucking at the tip of his cock to catch every last bit of his climax. Then I straightened and refastened his clothing, looking up at him with a grin.

Daniel managed to return the smile breathlessly, eyes a little unfocused from climax. When I stood he surged forward to catch my mouth hungrily, tasting me as his hands moved to fumble with my jeans. “You’re amazing. May I return the favor?”

“If you’d like,” I managed to reply, breath catching as his fingers wrapped around my cock, thumb smoothing circles over my head. “Oh fuck, please....”

Daniel gave a soft chuckle against my mouth, nipping at my bottom lip as he pulled back before dropping to his knees and drawing his tongue up the length of my cock with a little appreciative hum. He was either a natural or very well practiced, tongue working against the underside of my cock as his lips slid down the shaft, one hand encircling the base to stroke me in time. It quickly made me realize how close I was, and it was all I could do to keep from grabbing his hair and fucking his mouth until I came. “Not gonna last long...!”

“Good.” Daniel’s voice was husky when he pulled back, which somehow made me even harder. “Because I want you to come in my mouth, and then I want you to take me home and fuck me.”

“God - !” I bit down hard on my bottom lip to keep from coming, and when Daniel’s lips parted over my cock again it was more than I could take, the wet heat of his mouth pulling me to a shuddering climax. I bucked up into his mouth helplessly, pleasure rushing white hot through me as he stroked me through it, groaning around me and swallowing down every last spurt of my seed. He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself as he pulled back, pressing a kiss to my stomach and helping me do my jeans back up.

“Edge off?” he asked softly, melting into my embrace as I pulled him close to claim his mouth for a long, warm kiss.

I smiled, as we parted, stroking my hands to rest on his hips. “For now. Let’s go home.”

We were waylaid by friends of mine on our way to the door of the club with offers of free shots, which Daniel seemed all for. When we finally got into a cab I felt drunk and giddy, laughing with Daniel about everything, and it was a small miracle that I managed to get us both upstairs and into my apartment without even dropping the keys.

Daniel caught my mouth again as soon as he’d slipped out of his shoes, kisses hot and yearning. “Shall I guess that you’re a top?”

“I can go either way,” I replied with a grin, smoothing my hands down to cup his ass. “But I think that you’d really, really like me to fuck you.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all night,” he replied huskily - God, that voice! - and I pulled him down the hall and into my bedroom, stealing heated kisses from him as I worked at the buttons of his shirt and vest.

I felt warm and relaxed from the liquor, but had long ago learned not to let it affect my performance in bed. It didn’t take long before I had him exactly where I wanted him - naked and under me in my bed - kissing and sucking wetly at his neck and throat before teasing his nipples with my lips and teeth. He was fair, like Ben, with a smattering of hair on his chest and a nice, thick cock. “You’re beautiful,” I murmured, wrapping my fingers around him and feeling him harden more under my touch. “God, you’re exquisite.”

“So you said before,” he replied with a soft chuckle, rocking up into my touch. “Mm, god... everything you do feels amazing....”

“I’m just getting started,” I replied with a grin, moving up to kiss him again. I tugged off his glasses before they could get even more smudged than they already were, setting them aside on my bedside table. Then I proceeded to cover his skin with kisses and touch, losing myself to the taste of him, to the way he shuddered under me, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach. I kissed down his stomach to lavish attention on it finally, sucking at the tip to taste his arousal, then slowly making my way down the shaft, tracing the ridges with my tongue.

Daniel gave a little strangled gasp as I moved to mouth at his balls. “Enough. God, Larry, enough, fuck me, please....”

“You ask so nicely.” I grinned and moved back to press a warm kiss to his mouth, fumbling in my bedside table for supplies. I claimed his mouth in a slow, warm kiss as I slicked my fingers, pressing against his side and urging his thighs up and apart, easing a finger into the heat of his body. His fingers clenched in my hair as he pressed back against me, holding me to trembling kisses, body taut and tense like a livewire.

“More?” I murmured, fucking him slowly, teasing up inside him to brush against his prostate. He gave a throaty cry against my mouth, arching more under me, encouraging more.

“Fuck yes, more.” The request was almost a growl, and I couldn’t help but grind against his hip, kissing him hard as I worked a second finger into him, fucking him and stretching him open. It was hard to be patient when all I wanted was to fuck him, to feel the tight heat of his body around my cock, and it took all my concentration to be patient, folding a third finger in with the first.

“Gonna feel so good,” I murmured, releasing my claim on his mouth to kiss his neck hungrily, nipping at the crook, breathing hard against his skin. “Gonna make you feel amazing. God, Ben, you’re so tight....”

He drew a sharp breath and froze completely against me, and suddenly I realized exactly what I’d said. “Oh, _fuck_.” I eased my fingers away from him and pushed myself up to look at him in panic. “Oh fuck, Daniel, I’m so sorry - Jesus Christ, I can’t even - “

“Hush.” The command was low and demanding, accompanied by the press of Daniel’s fingers to my lips. He looked up at me, expression guarded and contemplative as he read my gaze. Then his eyes narrowed slightly, voice low and husky. “Say that again.”

“ _What_?”

“I told you to say that again,” he replied, and the growled words weren’t a request. He moved suddenly, pushing me down onto my back in the bed and straddling me before leaning in to press his mouth against my ear. “Say it again and fuck me like I know you want to, Lar.”

A million thoughts rushed through my mind all at once, but despite the knowledge that this was a very, very bad idea, we were here and I was hard and intoxicated and wanted him so goddamn bad, and in the end I was certain that I really couldn’t fuck this up any worse than I already had. So I gave in, catching his mouth almost savagely, grinding up hard against him. “Jesus fucking Christ, Ben - !”

“Yes...” Daniel’s fingers clenched hard in the back of my hair as he returned my kisses with just as much force and need, words breathless and husky against my mouth. “You make me so fucking hard, Lar, need you so bad....”

The force and forwardness was so very Ben, and in any other circumstance this would have been so wrong, so _weird_. But I was too far gone to care and Daniel just encouraged it, letting me pin him to the bed again and arching up against me with a low, wanton groan. Then he found the condom on the bed, tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it down the length of my shaft. And so, burying my face in the crook of his neck, I pulled his thighs up around my waist and eased into the heat of his body with Ben at the forefront of my mind. “... this is so dirty.”

Daniel gave a soft chuckle, breathless and gasping as I eased deeper with slow thrusts, fingers clenched hard at my shoulders. “Oh god, you’re big.”

I stopped, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You okay?”

His thighs tightened around me in response, heels pressed to my back to urge me deeper, head falling back with a throaty groan. “Fuck, yes... come on, Lar. Fuck me.”

I couldn’t bring myself to reply, too lost to know which brother I was supposed to be talking to. Instead I found his mouth, kissing him warm and deep and tender as I set a slow pace, rocking into him until I was buried to the hilt in the exquisite heat of his body. “So good,” I breathed, picking up the pace just a little, shifting the angle of our bodies until I was hitting up against his prostate, each thrust pulling a breathless, almost incredulous cry from his lips.

It was hard not to wonder if Ben would sound like this if we were ever together like this, if he ever let me fuck him. Daniel was so responsive, so alive, rocking up against me, returning my kisses with trembling passion. He let his head fall back on the pillow as I began to pick up the pace, eyes falling closed and voice thick with pleasure. “Oh god... fuck, don’t stop, oh fuck Lar....!”

I pressed my face to his neck, letting go and pounding into him hard and fast, drunk on the sensation and his reactions. His cock was pressed hard against my abdomen, and I shifted to work a hand between us, stroking him firm and fast in time with the buck of my hips. Within moments he was coming undone under me, crying out as he spilled in my fingers, body hot and tight and shuddering around my cock.

I forced myself to slow, pressing soft kisses to his throat as I drew him through it. But Daniel rocked up against me, hands clenching in my hair to pull me into a breathless kiss. “Come on, Lar. Fuck me. Come inside me. Fill me up.”

“Jesus Christ...” all I could do was helplessly obey, pressing my face to the crook of his neck again, bucking hard and deep until my passion crested and crashed, pleasure rushing through me as I let my mind go, thinking of the one person I shouldn’t, his name a choked cry on my lips. “Ben - !”

Daniel went bonelessly limp under me, breathing hard, and for a long moment I could only lay there, trying to put my mind back together to figure out how the hell I was going to deal with what I’d just done.

Daniel’s fingers unclenched from my back, and he gave a soft, almost incredulous sigh. “...incredible. Thank you.”

His words distracted me from my panic, though they were difficult to comprehend. “Thank you?”

“Mmmhmmm....” His reply was almost a purr, fingers stroking through my hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so perfectly ravished.”

            “But....”

“But?”

I sighed, pressing a soft kiss to his throat before easing away and letting my softening cock slip from his body. I tossed the condom before laying close to him again, curling around him. “This wasn’t exactly how I was expecting tonight to end.”

Daniel smiled, stroking his fingers over my cheek affectionately. “There’s wrong nothing with a little kink.”

“Um, I think this was more like the whole chicken.”

Daniel’s eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. “What?”

“You know. Kinky is using a feather, twisted is using the whole chicken?”

He laughed at that, soft and throaty and carefree, and somehow it calmed me more than any of his words had. He leaned into me to press a warm kiss to my mouth. “Perhaps just a little twist, then. May I use your washroom?”

“Of course.” I directed him to my ensuite, admiring his form as he left despite my conflicted emotions. And I couldn’t deny the sex had been pretty good despite my guilt....

“Your turn.” Daniel’s voice and a soft touch to my arm made me wake with a start, and I gave a little rueful smile.

“Mmm. Sorry. Thanks.” I stood, leaning in for a soft kiss before taking a turn in the bathroom to clean up.

When I came back to bed Daniel was curled up on his side, fast asleep. I watched him for a moment - the rise and fall of his chest, the fan of his eyelashes on closed lids, the hint of a smile on his lips.

Not Ben. And despite his words I knew I’d done him a disservice for playing at otherwise. It wasn’t even the guilt of what I’d done and allowed that was eating me up... it was the fact that I genuinely liked the boy. Things would be so much easier if I could love Daniel and just forget about everything I’d ever felt for Ben. But I realized now that it would never happen.

I curled around Daniel and pulled the blankets over us, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and hearing him give a sleepy, contented hum.

There’d never be anything between Daniel and I but this, but perhaps it wasn’t a complete failure, I thought as I dozed off to sleep. I was definitely going to make sure to treat Daniel as he deserved.

***

The next morning I woke up half-hard and wanting, bare limbs tangled with his, and though it took me a moment to wake up completely and remember _Daniel, not Ben_ , I was much more clear-headed than the night before. I managed to keep my promise to myself, spoiling Daniel - just Daniel - with kisses and touch and every talent I could muster. When we finally coupled it was slow and sweet and tender and almost, almost made me forget about the embarrassment of my antics the night before.

Afterwards we curled together in quiet warmth and well-being. Daniel nestled his face into my neck, finally the silence with a soft kiss to my throat and a contented sigh. “So glad I met you.”

The sweetness of his words made me feel strangely guilty. “Daniel....”

He looked up, then sat up with a start. “ _Gottverdammt_ , it’s so late already! May I use your shower?”

“Yeah, of course...” I glanced over at my clock to realize that it was already 10:30. “Shit. Yeah, go shower. There’s clean towels under the sink and a couple disposable razors if you need to shave. I’ll make coffee to get you home.”

“A perfect gentleman.” Daniel gave a warm smile and leaned in to kiss me before disappearing into my bathroom. I threw on a robe and put coffee on to brew, and then proceeded to agonize over what we’d done and what I’d said and what I needed to say. I couldn’t continue this, as much as I liked him. There was too much of Ben in him, and I knew I’d never be truly able to separate the two of them in my heart if we were lovers.

Daniel deserved so much more than that.

I was halfway through my second cup of coffee when he joined me, looking surprisingly just as put together as he had the day before. I stood with a nervous smile, pouring a fresh cup. “Cream and sugar?”

“Milk, if you have it? And two sugar?”

I nodded, fixing the coffee and setting it in front of him at the table, sitting back down. With my stomach tying itself in yet another knot I forced myself to speak. “Daniel, I... have to apologize for last night.”

He gave a little smile and took a sip of his coffee. “Mmm. You don’t have anything to apologize for, Larry.”

I gave a soft, helpless laugh. “Well, it’s nice of you to say so but I feel very much like I do. I didn’t mean to - I mean... that was really shitty of me.”

Daniel chuckled softly, but not unkindly, taking another sip of his coffee before reaching across the table to cover my hand with his own. “Larry, I need you to understand something. I am a university student and a gay man who bears a very striking resemblance to a handsome, famous rock star. Do you know how many men have taken me to bed because I look like my brother? You are certainly not the first person to do what you did. And I’ve never had cause to regret the benefits that the resemblance gives me.”

I perched uncomfortably on the edge of the kitchen chair. “It’s just that I’m not that guy. I swear. I genuinely like you, Daniel. I just....” I stopped helplessly, knowing there was no way to explain myself without admitting to far more than I even cared to admit to myself.

Daniel gave a soft smile, pulling his chair closer to sit in front of me, looking up at me. He reached out to stroke his fingers through my hair affectionately. “Do you love him?”

“No.” The response was automatic, instinctive. “No, we’re just friends.”

Daniel gave me a soft smile and met my gaze, kind and pitying and somehow completely understanding, and suddenly I felt more naked and vulnerable than I ever had before. Somehow, I had a feeling that Daniel knew exactly how I felt, and maybe even more; knew everything I’d tried to deny and keep from myself. He nodded, finally. “Well... I wish you every happiness, Larry. And I’m afraid I must get back to campus before Ben arrives to pick me up.”

“I’ll take you.” I got up with him, but he shook his head with a soft chuckle, pushing me back towards the chair.

“I think Ben is far more likely to recognize your vehicle than a cab,” he replied with a little smile. “I will see you at the bachelor party, yes?”

I nodded. “You’re not going to tell Ben?”

“I’m going to tell Ben that I had a wonderful evening, and that you dropped me off at home before going home with a very nice gentleman named Carlos. I think that would be best, yes?”

“Connor,” I corrected. “I’m not really into Carloses.” I paused, then sighed, standing again.. “Thanks. Daniel, I... I really....”

“I did have a wonderful evening,” he said before I could try to finish my thought. He leaned up to kiss me softly, still smiling. “I mean that. Thank you.”

I gave into the urge to pull him close, kissing his hair and giving a soft, helpless laugh against it. “You’re amazing, Daniel. I’m sorry I’m so fucked.”

His arms tightened around me, then released, pulling back with a smile. “No apology needed, my friend.” And with that, we bid our goodbyes and I watched him leave my apartment. Despite Daniel’s attempts at reassurance, I didn’t feel any more at ease with what I’d done... or the feelings he awoke in me.

***


	5. Hall Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before your best friend's wedding is the time to make sure you don't regret anything. Or to make sure that you do.

 

 

**Hall Pass**

***

 

I didn’t see Daniel again until Ben’s stag, the night before the wedding. Peter, our band’s vocalist, and I had arranged to shut down a small club in Manhattan for the night to everyone but our friends - people Ben and I had known growing up, and people we knew in the business. I’d spent most of the week in last-minute wedding preparations, watching my best friend grow more and more stressed out, and all my focus had been on keeping him together, as any best man should. He’d been strangely moody and testy, even snapping at me a few times, but I just chocked it up to stress.

The night of the stag he finally seemed to relax, coming back to himself; to the Ben I knew and loved. Maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol being poured down his throat. Daniel found us with a tray of shots every once and awhile, but was mostly absent the rest of the night, apart from glimpses I caught of him deep in conversation with various new acquaintances.

“Larry, I’m leaving now.” Daniel’s voice near my ear startled me out of half drunkenness, and I turned to give him a smile.

“Already? It’s only....” I checked my watch. “3am? Where are you going?”

He chuckled softly, glancing back to the man behind him, who was one of our roadies. “Brad and I are going for coffee.”

“Oh. Ohhh.” It occurred to me that my subtlety was completely non-existent, but I was too drunk to care. I attempted some degree of responsibility. “Ok. Call me if you need anything. Brad, you keep him safe or the boss will rip you a new asshole.”

Brad gave a grin and a little mock salute.

Daniel gave me a tight hug, pressing his lips under my ear. “I’ll meet you at the venue tomorrow, please bring my tuxedo. Promise you’ll take care of Ben for me? Make sure he gets back to your place safely?”

It had been the plan anyway; Amy had the night to herself at their place and our tuxes were already at my apartment. It was the easiest way to make sure he got up and to the venue. “I promise.”

“Good.” Daniel’s smile was warm and sweet, and as he said his goodbyes to Ben I couldn’t help but wish that things had somehow turned out differently between us.

When the club finally shut down around 4am I managed to bundle Ben into a cab, declining the many offers of after parties. Ben, strangely, didn’t argue, seeming strangely subdued as we traveled, reaching my apartment and paying the cab driver.

He stayed silent until we got into the apartment, kicking off his shoes and throwing his jacket over the back of a couch. Then he stopped short suddenly, shoulders slumping, voice low. “... I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be great,” I told him, though truthfully the reminder made my stomach tie itself in knots. I stepped out of my shoes and moved to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Ben. Tomorrow’s going to be the happiest day of your life. Let’s gets some sleep.”

“Larry....” Ben stopped, looking up at me helplessly. Then he reached up to catch my face in both hands, bringing his mouth to mine for a trembling, yearning kiss.

I gave a soft moan before I could stop myself, catching his hips and pulling him closer, lips parting as I returned the kiss far too eagerly. I hadn’t done this for years, not since Amy had joined the band and started dating Ben. It awoke an overwhelming ache and yearning in me, a need to hold Ben to me and not let go.

I forced myself to break from his lips, holding him tight and pressing my lips to his hair, trying to catch my breath. “We can’t do this.”

“Why?”

“Ben, you’re getting married,” I forced myself to say, only to feel Ben shudder against me, fingers digging into my back.

“But I’m not married yet.” He pulled back to look at me, blue eyes desperate. “Lar, _please_.”

I could never say no to him.

I pressed him back against the back of the couch, catching his mouth again and giving free rein to all the need and desire I felt. It was hard to think about anything other than being with Ben, and the week, the wedding, and everything else melted away at the feel of Ben’s body against mine, the little helpless groan he gave into my mouth, fingers tangled in my hair to encourage more. I let my hands stroke hungrily over his body, feeling warmth and strength and everything that was so incredibly Ben, and I couldn’t help but wonder how I could have ever mistaken Daniel for this.

I broke from Ben’s mouth to kiss hungrily along his jaw, rocking against his hips and feeling him harden against my thigh. He gave a trembling sigh, head tilting back to my kisses, trying to rock up closer to me. “I’m sorry.”

I didn’t stop my kisses, sucking on his earlobe and stroking my hands down his back to cup his ass and encourage him closer, already half hard myself. “Sorry for what?”

“I’ve been a dick to you this week. And I... “ He gave a soft hiss as I nipped lightly at the side of his neck. “I should have let you go home with Daniel tonight....”

I pulled back to look at him, confused. “This is about Daniel?”

Ben looked away from my gaze, troubled and a little angry. “I’m sorry. I feel like an idiot, because I told him that he should try and date you and I thought you’d be well matched but when I went home with Amy after dinner that night I just felt like I was losing my best friend.”

The outpouring was completely unexpected, and left me stunned. It took a moment to find my voice again, taking Ben’s face in my hands and turning it back to look at me. “Jesus, Ben. Two things. First of all, Daniel and I didn’t work out. He’s sweet as hell, just not really my type, okay?”

Ben’s anger had softened a little as I spoke, and he gave a soft snort of disbelief. “He’s totally your type.”

I grinned back, not willing to let him get away with challenging my lie. “And you think you know my type?”

“I know this,” he replied stubbornly, rolling his hips up against mine again, and I drew a sharp breath, fingers tangling in his hair and leaning in to indulge in a hard kiss.

“Yeah, because you’ve known me since before I even really knew what sex was,” I replied, rocking back against him and relishing in the shivers of pleasure that ran through me from the movement of our bodies. Still, I knew I had to finish what I needed to say, so I forced myself to draw back and meet his gaze. “Secondly, Ben, I swear on my life that you’ll never lose me.” There was a nagging thought at the back of my mind that I was saying too much, but the look in Ben’s eyes - suddenly raw and questioning and completely vulnerable - made me keep going. “I mean that, and I need you to believe that. Whenever you need me, whatever you need and I’ll be by your side, whether it’s for work or trouble or just a drink, whatever. I’ll be there. Maybe even some times when you don’t want me around but need me there anyway. I’ll always be your best friend, no matter what happens.”

Ben closed his eyes, leaning forward to rest his forehead to mine, letting out a slow sigh. “I know,” he said finally, fingers stroking through my hair. “Thank you, Larry. You mean a lot to me.”

I leaned in to nuzzle his jaw, realizing that this was probably the last time I’d ever be able to be with him; one last reprieve that I’d never expected with Amy in the picture. And even though I wanted so much more from him... this would have to be enough. “You do too,” I murmured, feeling a shiver run through me and pulling him closer, needing to touch him. “I really want to go to bed with you.”

“Fuck yes....” Ben pulled away, catching my hand to tug me towards my bedroom, and he looked back at me with a smirk. “We gave each other hall passes for tonight, no regrets and all that. I plan on taking full advantage of it.”

I drew a soft breath and felt my cock harden more in my jeans. “And it doesn’t bother you that she might be doing the same?”

“Not if the tradeoff is you.” He pulled me close as we reached the side of his bed, pushing my sport jacket off my shoulders and starting on the buttons of my shirt as he claimed my mouth again in a yearning kiss. “Can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed this, Lar.”

“Me too,” I murmured, then sacrificed further words for kisses, losing myself to the familiarity of his mouth and the feel of his skin under my fingers as I stroked my hands up under his shirt.

Ben managed to get my shirt off before helping me with his own, trailing hungry kisses up my neck, his breath hot against my ear. “Can you promise me something?”

I tilted my head back for him a little, stroking my hands over his bare shoulders, loving the feel of firm muscles under his skin. “Mmmhmm?”

“I want you to do whatever I ask you to tonight. No questions, no arguments.”

I gave a soft chuckle, drawing a sharp breath as he nipped at the crook of my neck. “That sounds a little dangerous.”

Ben laughed softly as well, though there was a strange hint of anxiety in it. “I’m not gonna go all BDSM on you, don’t worry. You promise?”

I let my hands cup his ass to pull him closer. How bad could it be? “I promise.”

“You won’t regret it,” he replied, voice husky, moving one hand between us to cup my cock through my jeans, squeezing gently and giving a soft appreciative hum as he did.

It almost amazed me how natural it still was to go to bed with Ben, how familiar everything was even though after not being together for years. I was naked and in bed with him in no time, lost to the exquisite familiarity of his body against mine, the taste of his skin, the hard thickness of his beautiful cock in my fingers. When he slid down my body to take my cock in his mouth I had to clench my hands into fists to keep from fucking up into his mouth. “Oh fuck, Ben... not gonna last long if you do that.” I fumbled in my bedside table for lube, pressing it to his hand. “Wanna fuck me instead?”

Ben pulled back leisurely, sucking at the head of my cock for a moment before leaning down to mouth at my balls, hands stroking my thighs. Then he moved up to claim my mouth, licking past my lips and letting me taste my own arousal on his tongue, fingers tangling in his hair. Ben shifted to straddle one of my thighs, rocking against me, cock hard against my stomach, and when he finally spoke again his voice was thick with need. “Want you to fuck me this time.”

I gave a rather embarrassing, incredulous noise. “No.”

Ben grinned, eyes dark as he pushed himself up on his arms, still rocking against my cock. “You promised, Larry.”

“Yeah, but - “

He leaned in to nuzzle my ear, voice low and throaty. “I know you want to.”

I drew a shuddering breath, closing my eyes. “That’s beside the point.”

The nip on my neck felt sharp, like a reprimand. “Well, I want it. I want you to fuck me, Lar. Want to know what it’s like to have that beautiful cock inside me, want to know why you like it so much....”

His words made me feel almost mindlessly aroused, and I let my hands cup his ass, squeezing and kneading. When I finally pressed a finger to massage his asshole he groaned and pressed  back against it, breathing hard against my neck. “Come on, Lar.”

I briefly wondered how the hell my week had managed to get even more fucked up, then moved to kiss his neck, still massaging gently. “You sure about this?”

“Incredibly,” Ben breathed, shifting a little more under the stimulation. “More, please...”

I found the lube and worked a finger into him, trying not to grind up against him as I did. “Okay, but you’re fucking me in the morning. Deal?”

“Deal,” he breathed, rocking back against the penetration. We’d gotten as far as this when we’d been together before, and it was easy to remember how to crook my finger just so to make him shudder and gasp. This time it was accompanied by a little helpless moan. “Oh fuck, Lar, please....”

“Stop me if you need,” I murmured, working a second finger into him carefully, catching his mouth to distract him with kisses. I felt him gradually relax against me, giving a little needy whine as I teased against his prostate again, and finally, carefully added a third. “You’re amazing,” I murmured against his mouth, fucking him slowly and feeling his body shudder and tense as he fought to adjust. “Gonna make you feel so good, oh god, Ben, I wanna fuck you so fucking bad....”

“I knew it,” he replied breathlessly, breath catching as my fingers twisted inside him. “Fuck, feels so good, Lar.... God, I can’t be patient, tell me how you want me.”

I nuzzled his jaw, still teasing him with my fingers. “It’ll be easiest for you like this... you want to ride me, lover?”

He hesitated for a moment, tensing a little against me, then shook his head. “Doggy style. Fuck me from behind.”

“Love to.” I indulged in another long kiss, running my free hand through his hair and feeling him relax again, and he finally shifted off to settle on his hands and knees in the middle of my bed.

I knelt behind him and tried to take a moment to catch my breath, easing my fingers back into him and fucking him slowly as I found a condom in my bedside table and tore it open with my teeth. “God, you have a beautiful ass.”

Ben chuckled, rocking back against my fingers, and as keyed up and turned on as I was I could only imagine how much more he was.  “Thank you. Now stop admiring it and fuck it.”

I chuckled, drizzling more lube on my cock, and thinking suddenly, grabbed a small bottle from my drawer before moving to kneel between his thighs, teasing him with the head of my cock. “Try to relax, okay? Push back against me. And smell this.” I cracked the seal on the bottle, leaning forward.

Ben gave a breathless laugh. “You have poppers?”

“Just trust me,” I replied, leaning over to kiss the back of his neck and letting my cock slide between the cheeks of his ass, rocking against him slowly. I trailed kisses up his neck, letting my body curl around his completely. “You sure you still want this?”

“Fuck yes.” He shifted to take the bottle from my hand, flicking open the lid and sniffing the fumes of the chemical inside, giving a shuddering exhalation of breath. I shifted to press inside him as he did, his body warm and relaxed in the wake of the drug, and Ben gave a shuddering groan, pressing back against me until I was buried to the hilt. “Oh my fucking god, Lar!”

It took me a moment to respond, too overwhelmed by the warmth and heat of his body. “You’re so incredible,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and starting to rock in him slowly, and then a little harder as he bucked back against me. “Oh fuck, Ben - !”

“Feels fucking amazing... oh fuck, more, god.... I’m so fucking horny Lar - “

I laughed breathlessly, picking up the pace a little, pressing breathless kisses to the back of his neck. I knew the rush wouldn’t last long, so I shifted to rest my weight on one hand, taking the bottle from him. “Again,” I said, inhaling myself before handing it back blindly. This wasn’t a habit for me, but it did make sex incredible, every nerve in my body warm and tingling and craving touch and sensation.

A second dose made Ben buck back against me harder, bracing himself on one forearm on the bed and crying out as our bodies connected, as I hit up against his sweet spot again and again. I knew I wasn’t going to last long like this, but I could tell that he wouldn’t either, warm and eager and shuddering every time I thrust into him.

I shifted to wrap my fingers around his cock, which was rock hard and leaking precum against his stomach. Knowing that I was the cause of so much pleasure was almost enough to make me blow my load right there. I leaned over him again, pressing breathless kisses to his neck and shoulder as I fucked him, stroking him in time with the rock of my hips. “So good, Ben, fuck, better than I ever imagined, you’re so fucking amazing....”

“God, Larry - !” He bucked back against me helplessly, shuddering under me. “Oh fuck, don’t hold back - feels so good, want you to make me come - !”

“Inhale again when you do,” I murmured, giving in to his request, hips snapping into him again and again as I tried to hold off. Ben gave a little helpless, half-strangled cry, popping the lid on the bottle open again, and I leaned over to take a hit myself after him. The entire world completely disappeared in the rush of sensation - everything but Ben and I moving together, the pleasure that overwhelmed me as I felt him pulse in my fingers and come, and the incredible, vivid ecstasy as I let go and let my own climax take me. My orgasm was so intense, shudders of pleasure washing through me again and again, and I wished I could stay in this moment forever.

I came back to myself with my face pressed to the back of Ben’s neck, breathing hard, feeling suddenly vulnerable in the aftermath of such intensity. I took the bottle from him and fumbled to set it aside, easing away and tossing the condom so I could pull him back into my arms, kissing him again and again. Ben seemed a little dazed but curled into me, warm and cuddly and affectionate as he returned my kisses, stroking his fingers over my hair.

I love you, I wanted to say. Don’t get married. Fuck the band. Stay with me. Instead I pushed my feelings inside. “Good enough hall pass?”

Ben chuckled softly, nestling his face against my neck. “Fucking perfect,” he murmured, and I knew how exhausted he’d be in the aftermath of sex and the intensity of the drug.

“Get some sleep,” I murmured, kissing his hair. “We’ll clean up in the morning.”

I woke up the next morning to Ben’s lips wrapped around my cock, slowly coaxing me to full hardness. It very effectively kept me from questioning the night before, and we spent what seemed like hours making love, sharing kisses and touch until we were both aching with need. When we finally had sex it was with me on my back and Ben over top of me, hair mussed and gold in the light of the late morning sun.

Somewhere along the line I decided that I didn’t want to talk about it, that it was best to just hold onto this as one final bright memory of Ben. He was getting married, and nothing would change that. But I’d be his friend as long as he’d have me. So as much as I loved him, I tried my best to bury it and pretend like this wedding wouldn’t change anything between us.

Most of the afternoon of the wedding was a blur to me, an agony of nerves and agony that I tried to push away to support Ben. He didn’t seem any less flustered, and I had to force him to pull into a McDonald’s drive through on the way to the hall to make sure he ate something.

Daniel met us at the hall, looking as calm and collected as ever. He greeted us each with a kiss on the cheek, taking his bagged tux from me and showing us to the groom’s lounge that had been set aside for our use - comfortable and masculine with a discreet cabinet full of liquor. Ben poured hearty glasses of whiskey over ice for all of us, and for once I didn’t argue, sipping the amber liquid in an attempt to calm my nerves.

When Ben went to pour another, Daniel moved to take the bottle from him gently. “Enough, _mein Herz_. You can get shit faced after the ceremony. Amy will kill you if you show up dead drunk.”

“She’d probably kill all of us if we let him show up drunk,” I agreed, a little mournfully.

Ben sighed, and gave a nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna step out and have a smoke. Clear my head.”

He went outside and I sunk down onto the edge of the room’s expensive looking dark leather couch and tried to remember how to breathe. Half an hour, I tried to tell myself. Half an hour and we’d be in the chapel and after that he’d be married and this would all be over.

Daniel moved to stand in front of me, taking a small bottle out of his jacket pocket and offering me a small blue and yellow capsule from it.

“What is it?” I managed to ask, but didn’t resist when Daniel pressed the pill to my lips along with a glass of water.

“Chlordiazepoxide. Librium. It’s an anti-anxiety. A friend of _Mutter’s_ prescribed me a little for flight, I suffer from Acrophobia. It is more useful here, I think.”

I swallowed it down with a long drink of water, finding that even his presence was calming. “Thank you. Do I really look like I’m freaking out?”

Daniel paused, then shook his head. “Only a little. I just notice these things more readily than most people.” He took the glass from me and setting it aside before crouching down in front of me and taking both my hands. “Larry. Tell him how you feel.”

“Jesus Christ.” I drew a shuddering breath, shaking my head. “I don’t feel anything, this isn’t anything, Daniel. I’m certainly not going to fuck up the wedding and by extension the entire band by freaking out about some crazy obsession - “

“You’re not crazy - “ Daniel started, but then stopped with a sigh. “My apologies. This is not my place. I just... hope you never have cause to regret.”

His words made me pause for a moment, to briefly think that perhaps he was right. I shook them off. I couldn’t do that to Ben, especially not on his wedding day. “I hope so too,” I said quietly.

“You two plotting over something?” Ben had come back inside from his cigarette and stood in the doorway, and though his words were light and teasing they seemed strangely forced.

I smiled at Ben and stood, stroking a hand over Daniel’s hair. “Your brother’s a good friend. Now, are you ready to get married, mister?”

Ben looked away, a strange coldness passing over his expression, then being forced away. He smiled. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. Thanks for being here with me, guys.”

“No place I’d rather be,” I replied, and though I’d choose being with Ben over anything in the world, the rest of it was a lie. But I would be strong enough to be what he needed to be, to stand by his side regardless of my feelings.

***


	6. Joshua Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Larry takes it upon himself to pull Ben from his post-divorce funk with a road trip across the continent.

 

  
**Joshua Tree**

***

 

“Hey. Get out of bed and come let me in.”

I gave a low groan at the sound of my best friend’s voice on the other end of the phone. When my wife had left me two months ago for the vocalist in our band, I tried to shut out the world. It was Larry who held things together - dealing with the paparazzi, paying the lawyers to handle my divorce, bringing me groceries and making sure I ate them. I’d tried to keep him out as well, at first, wanting to be alone with my pain and anger and liquor cabinet, but Larry had been insistent, and as much as I couldn’t admit it, I appreciated him. He was the one thing that could take my mind off Amy.

Still, at 7am there was a limit to my goodwill. “Oh god... fuck off, Larry.”

“Fucking’s always an option, darling. But not this morning, we’re on a schedule.”

I closed my eyes, wishing I knew whether or not he was joking. Larry and I had been best friends since we were kids, and while we’d never actually been an item, before I met Amy he’d been a far more constant lover than any of the girls I’d ever dated. I’d thought that I was in love with him, back then, but knew that telling him how I felt would just make me one more guy in a long string of boyfriends. It wasn’t worth losing him. So I’d pushed away my feelings and focused on the feisty little girl who’d become our bassist, then my wife, then the wedge that broke the band apart.

“Come on, Ben. Let me in or I _will_ climb in through your window.” Larry’s threat finally dragged me to my feet.

“I’m coming,” I grumbled, crawling out of bed and making my way to the front door of my apartment without bothering to pull clothes over my boxers. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes with the heel of my hand before finally undoing the locks on the door and opening it.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Larry met me with a grin and a extra large coffee, which he pushed into my hand as he leaned in to kiss my cheek. Then he breezed past me, kicking the front door shut behind him as he did, then disappearing into my bedroom.

I took a sip of the drink to steel my nerves, briefly appreciating Larry’s good sense to at least bring a decent cup of coffee to ease the shock of the early morning invasion. Then I moved to stand in the doorway to my room, staring at the duffel bag that now sat in the middle of my unmade bed with clothes being stuffed into it. “... what the fuck are you doing?”

Larry straightened, pulling a pile of boxers from the bottom drawer of my dresser and putting them in the duffel. “Look out your window.”

A sense of dread came over me as I followed his instructions. Parked in my guest parking spot was a large utility van that had probably been white before it had been attacked by hippies with paintbrushes. I could just read the bubble letters on the side - ‘Burning Man or Bust!’ which were painted half on top of a crossed out ‘Carpoolchella!’

I turned back to Larry slowly. “You killed some hippies and stole their van and we’re going on the run?”

Larry snorted. “Hardly. It’s Casey’s, I swapped it for my Audi for a week or so. Until we get back.”

My eyebrows knit together a little, and I took refuge in another long swallow of coffee. “So you can pretend to be a dirty hippie? And We? Back from where?” I really hoped it wasn’t Burning Man.

Larry looked particularly proud of himself. "Well, my dear Ben, we have reservations at Black Rock Canyon campground in Joshua Tree National Park and three days to get there."

I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. "You're going to drive to California."

He grinned. "Well I was hoping we could switch off. Figured we could stay in Chicago tonight, catch a show at Bruce’s, drive to Denver tomorrow, and then Joshua Tree for a week or so or until we get bored. Could even get shitfaced in Vegas for a couple days on our way back if you want."

I closed my eyes with a low groan. “Larry, I am not driving clear across the continent just for some hippie experience.”

“Why not? Come on, it’ll be fun. It’s not like we have anything better to do. It’ll be good to get away from everything for a while. Besides, every good musician has to go to Joshua Tree at least once in their lives.”

The thought of leaving my apartment made me feel stubborn and grumpy. “Look, I’m just not up to it.”

“You’ll change your mind when we hit the road. Now, are you going to shower before we leave or am  I going to have to chloroform you and throw you in the van?”

            “Larry, I’m serious. Go if you want. I’m staying here.”

Larry’s expression turned solemn and a little disappointed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t want to go without you. And I need to get out of here. I know I haven’t been through half the crap you have but I’ve lost my band too, Ben. Can’t we just go be irresponsible together like we always used to be and forget about this crap for a while?”

The plea pulled at my heartstrings, and I glanced away, swallowing before answering. “Just afraid I’m going to be shit company, that’s all.”

“I don’t care. I just want you to be there,” Larry replied softly, then stepped closer to me, clearing his throat. “Besides, you can’t be any shittier than you are being drunk and mopey in this apartment. Drunk and mopey in the desert is always an improvement.”

I gave a soft snort, but turned to grab my towel off the back of my bedroom door. “All right, asshole. I’ll shower. But I’m sleeping in the van, you drive the first shift.”

“Deal,” Larry replied, smacking my ass playfully as I turned and left.

As I let the hot water sluice over me I tried not to think about Larry. With Amy out of the picture it was hard not to remember how things had been between us before. It was harder to keep denying that I wanted things to be like that again. It was getting more and more difficult to remind myself that I’d left that life behind long ago... and more than that, I’d never have what I wanted with Larry..

After dressing, I found him outside, loading what looked to be the last of the supplies into the brightly painted van. There were only two seats, and the majority of the back of the van contained a rough platform bed with a foamy camp mattress on it covered in sheets and light blankets. Camping gear was shoved underneath it, including the case to one of my old acoustic guitars and a couple of Larry’s hand drums. I watched him shove a tupperwear to one side to make the guitar fit better. “I can’t believe you traded your Audi for a hippie van.”

“You won’t say that when we’re passed out in this super comfy bed,” Larry replied, climbing out of the van and lugging the huge sliding door closed.

I stared at it, feeling a little dubious. “And this thing isn’t going to break down on us halfway across the Nevada desert? It looks like a bucket of bolts.”

“Don’t say that, she’ll hear you.” Larry patted the side of the van soothingly. “She’s in good shape, don’t worry. She’s already made the trip twice and they’ve put a lot of work into her. Recent checkups. All that good stuff.” He turned back to me with a smile. “Ready to go?”

I glanced back up at my apartment. Maybe it would be good to get away from everything familiar. From all the reminders of Amy. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

***

I woke up halfway through Pennsylvania and took over driving, finding that the further away we got from New York the better I felt. The hippie van had a surprisingly good sound system, and Larry had loaded up his iPod with classic rock, old favourites that reminded me of our childhood. By the time we reached Chicago I was quite enjoying myself.

Larry parked the van in the back parking lot of the staple venue of the Chicago Indies rock scene, Bruce’s. It’d been around since the 60’s and was named after the original owners son, who later took over ownership. We’d played there as ‘The Reflections’ several times when we were in that awkward phase of fame when we were too big for bars and not big enough to fill standard show venues.

I greeted the back door man. “Hey Dave. Bruce around?”

“He’s in the green room trying to wake up the bassist for our headliners,” the doorman replied with a snort. “Don’t suppose you two want to fill some stage time?”

Larry looked immediately interested, but I shook my head. “Not this time, we’ve been driving all day. Thanks though. Let Bruce know we’re out front when he has a moment.”

“Sure thing.”

The venue wasn’t packed, but there was enough people for Larry and I to keep a low profile as we made our way to the bar and ordered a couple of beers. There was an empty booth along the wall that we settled into. I took a swallow of my beer, lit up a cigarette and leaned back into the padded bench in contentment. “Hey Lar....”

He glanced over with a smile. “Hm?”

“Thanks for bringing me out. I think I really did need to get away.”

Larry grinned and gave a little shrug. “Just glad you’re enjoying yourself. Thanks for coming, Ben.” He looked up at the stage a little wistfully. “You sure you don’t want to play? We can just do covers. I’ll sing.”

I felt a little guilty at refusing, but shook my head. “I’m not ready, I’m sorry. Maybe on the way back through.”

“Okay.” Larry didn’t look too disappointed, and before I could say anything the owner of the venue appeared with a bottle of Jägermeister and a tray of glasses and Red Bull. He set them down and slid into the booth.

            “Good to see you guys up and about. You should have told me you were coming into town, I would have booted these assholes and booked you instead.”

I chuckled and shook his hand in greeting, helping him set out the glasses. “Don’t think you want us playing, Bruce. We’re damaged goods.”

“Scandal fills seats,” He replied with a smirk, pouring out shots of Jäger. “Besides, you’re good. Anyone with a head for music knows that what’s left of ‘The Reflections’ is all the talent the band ever had. Just think of this whole thing as separating the wheat from the chaff. You two’ll come back better than ever. Now do a shot with me, it’s on the house.”

“Thanks,” Larry replied with a grin, dropping the Jäger into his glass of Red Bull and clanking it against ours before downing it. He looked up at the stage as the band came on, only getting a little reaction from the crowd. “Hey, isn’t that your son?”

Bruce looked a little proud at that. “Yeah, he’s my new house bassist, or at least when he doesn’t have school. Their actual bassist snorted himself into a K-hole backstage. But Leon can pick up pretty much anything.”

I sipped my beer and listened for a bit. The band was nothing special, but Leon had solid skills. I nodded. “He’s good. You’ve raised a good kid.”

“I don’t know about that, he’s still a musician,” Bruce replied with a smirk. “Seriously though, are you guys thinking of starting up again? I can make some recommendations if you are.”

“I don’t know,” I replied, looking down at the beer bottle. “It’s been rough, Bruce. I think I might just need to take a break from the scene for a while. The thought of essentially starting from scratch again is a bit daunting.”

He gave a snort, shaking his head. “Don’t delude yourself. You still have fans. Shitty indies bands cover you all the time. Don’t wait so long that they move on to the next big thing. Hire a manager, recruit some fresh talent and start up again.”

I regarded him curiously for a few minutes. “We’re self managed....”

“Self management is for hipster bands,” Bruce replied with a shake of his head. “Trust me on this, Ben. I’ve been around since you guys were in diapers. Hire a good manager and let him take care of the bullshit so you can focus on what you love to do.”

“You volunteering for the job?” Larry asked with a smirk, which made Bruce laugh again.

“Fuck no, I’m not that crazy. But I can introduce you to a few people.” He paused for a moment, regarding the stage thoughtfully. “I’ll put money on Frank Bumstead being available within six months.”

“Bumstead?” The name sounded familiar, and I tried to place it. “Doesn’t he manage ‘Blood and Honey’?”

“For now,” Bruce replied with a chuckle. “None of this comes from official sources, of course, but when the shit that band is up to hits the papers your little scandal will look like a playground fight.” He started to pour out another round of Jäger and Red Bull. “Just let me know when you’re ready for introductions. And have another drink with me before I head backstage.”

“Thanks,” I replied, taking a glass from him. The idea of what he proposed made me remember what it had been like when we’d just been starting out. The excitement of success and accomplishment. But I couldn’t push away the feeling of anger and betrayal every time I thought about Amy.

We didn’t talk about it for the rest of the night, drinking through the two bands that played before stumbling back to the van and crashing on the bed in the back. Despite desperately wanting to, I resisted the urge to curl up against Larry, facing the wall of the van and hugging a pillow instead.

As much as I wanted it, things couldn’t go back to the way they’d been before.

***

We slept late the next morning and got into Denver after midnight, parking the van in a Walmart parking lot and passing out in the back. The next day we stopped off in Vegas long enough to have dinner at a titty bar where Larry called all the servers darling and managed to score us a free lap dance. It always amused me when Larry played straight, and he seemed happy and at ease on the road with me... somehow happier than he’d been since long before the band had broken up.

The sun was setting when we finally got to the campground in Joshua Tree National Park and found the site Larry had booked. It was off to the side of the campground, a small clearing with a picnic bench and a fire pit in the sand, surrounded by brush and the twisting trunks of Joshua Trees. Larry backed in, and I stepped out of the van, taking a few steps towards the fire pit and looking around. "It's nice. Private. You made a lucky choice."

"Not so lucky," Larry admitted with a grin. "I checked the place out on Google maps. Figured this one was private enough and far enough away from other sites that a bit of music at midnight wouldn't disturb other campers."

I glanced towards the back of the van, where my acoustic was still stashed under the bed. "I don't know if I'm up to playing, Lar...."

"Who said it was going to be you playing?" He crossed to the back of the van and opened the doors. "Come on, help me get the tent set up."

            "We're not sleeping in the van?"

He shrugged. "We can if you want, but it'll probably be cooler sleeping outside. The van'll be an oven in the morning. At least if we set up the sun shade over the tent we'll have some shade and a bit of a breeze."

By the time we managed to wrestle up both the tent and the canopy it was dark enough that Larry had to break out the camping lantern to have enough light to start the campfire. When it was blazing it lit the area in a warm, golden glow, and I broke out the cooler full of liquor we’d picked up on the way out. “Beer or Jack?”

            “Both,” Larry replied without hesitation, pulling up a fat stump of firewood and perching on it by the fire. He took the cold can of beer from me and clinked it against mine before cracking it and taking a long swallow. “You glad you came out?”

I took a seat on the picnic bench facing the fire as well, setting the bottle of Jack Daniels on the end of the bench between us and cracking my beer as well. “Yeah,” I said finally, leaning back against the table and stretching my legs out so that I could feel the heat of the fire through my chucks. “Sorry I haven’t been the best company.”

Larry shrugged, setting his beer down beside the log and reaching over to break the seal on the Jack. “It’s fine. I know it hasn’t been the easiest going since the band broke up. We’ll get through it and be back on stage eventually.”

I sighed, staring down at the can of beer in my hands. Larry’s assumption that we’d start up again had been nagging at me since the beginning of the trip, and I felt like I was leading him on. “Lar... maybe you should just get started without me.”

He looked over sharply. “What do you mean?”

I sighed. “I mean I don’t know if I’m going to be ready to go back to music anytime soon, and you shouldn’t let that hold you back. You’re the best drummer I’ve ever known and there’s a lot of talented musicians out there you could hook up with. Don’t wait around for me. I honestly don’t know if I’m going to go back.”

“You really mean that?” Larry asked after a moment, expression unreadable. I couldn’t hold his gaze.

“Yeah. I do.”

Larry was silent for a long moment, taking a swallow of the Jack and staring into the fire. "Do you remember the first time you snuck me in to watch someone record at your father's studio?" he asked quietly, eyes serious as he turned his gaze to me.

I tried to think back. We'd been about thirteen at the time, and I remember feeling so mature, sitting in the control room with him and listening to the band play as my father adjusted and monitored the sound levels. "Yeah. When "Common Goals" were recording."

Larry nodded, taking another swig of the Jack and passing it back to me. "Yeah. You were so much in awe of the band... how talented they were, how close they seemed to be. You told me then that you wanted to be a musician, that you wanted to form a band like that. That you thought that creating music was one of the greatest things someone could do with their life. And that the relationship between bandmates was the most important in the world. He wet his lips, glancing away. "I believed that, Ben. More than that... I wanted to do that with you. I wanted to be that for you. That's why I started learning the drums. I wanted to make the perfect band with you."

I snorted, and took another drink, letting the liquor burn down my throat. "And look how that turned out."

Larry narrowed his eyes. "I'm not talking about Peter and Amy, fuck those douchebags. I'm talking about us, Ben. This is our band. We started it, you and I. Why are we letting those assholes ruin what we worked to hard to build? Why can't we keep going together? You're the talent, you're the reason why we were successful. So we write some new songs, recruit some new members and we keep playing."

I stared into the fire, watching the embers glow. "You don't need me to be successful, Larry. And I can't play any more. Just find someone else. You'll be fine on your own."

"Have you been listening to anything I said?" Larry stood up, moving from the tree stump to sit beside me on the edge of the bench. "I can't do it without you. I don't want to, I won't."

I twisted the cap back onto the bottle and set it down in the sand. "So you're going to give up music just because I am? Lar, you don't need me - "

"I do need you, you idiot!" He surged forwards at that, catching the front of my shirt with one hand to draw me close as he pressed his lips to mine. I gave into the kiss without thinking, lips parting to his, responding to the taste and feel of him that was still familiar, even after all this time. All the longing and desire that I'd always felt for him came rushing back, everything I felt that I'd tried so hard to use my marriage to block out. I brought my hands up to cup the back of his hair, but he broke from the kiss with a soft sigh, resting his forehead against mine. "I need you," he replied softly, voice low and husky, sending a shiver of desire down my spine. "I need my best friend back. Please, Ben."

Best friend. I let my fingers slip from his hair, pulling away and picking up the bottle. That’s always what it came down to, wasn’t it? I was just the best friend. I took a swallow of whiskey and shuddered, more from the ache inside my chest than the burn of the alcohol. "I'm sorry. I can't be what you need me to be right now, Larry."

“Fuck.” Larry stood, taking a few steps away from me and kicking the remains of his beer into the brush with a sudden violence. He turned back to me, opening his mouth to speak, but stopped and shook his head. “Just... fuck. I need some air.”

I stood as he crossed to the van, grabbing a knapsack out of the back. “Where are you going?”

“What do you care?” he shot back, then caught himself and stopped, closing his eyes for a moment in a visible effort to compose himself. “I’m sorry. I just need to go cool off. I’ll come back. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Okay,” I replied softly, watching him round the van and disappear off into the darkness of the campsite. Part of me wanted to call him back, to go after him and tell him... tell him what? That I was sorry for disappointing him? A heaviness settled around my heart, and I sat back down on the picnic bench, finishing my beer before starting in on the Jack again and wishing I could sort out what I felt.

Despite what I’d said, the thought of Larry going on to another band was slightly terrifying. Somehow I knew that it would be the end of things - he’d have his life and I’d have mine. And despite the sensible part of myself trying to tell me that it would be better that way - to break ties so I could forget about everything I felt for him - the thought of it hurt more than I could handle. I’d always wanted Larry, even when I’d been with Amy, and guiltily, I knew that one of the main reasons I’d been drawn to her was the idea that she could be mine and mine alone, that she’d commit to something I could never ask of Larry. It wasn’t the idea of continuing with music with Larry that I’d been balking at. It was the thought of building a new band with him and watching him date other men without the safety buffer of Amy to focus on.

I leaned back against the picnic bench, trying to tell myself that I had no right to feel that way. Hell, I’d even tried to set Larry up with my younger brother the first time he’d come to visit in New York. And how could I fault Larry for dating other people when I’d always done the same?

When the fire died down Larry still hadn’t come back. Finally when I’d downed the rest of the six pack and the remainder of the whiskey I gave up. I stumbled back to the tent, stripping down to my boxers and letting the warm fuzz of drunkenness take me into sleep.

***

I woke up in the heat of the sun the next morning, the air in the tent hot and muggy. Larry must have come back sometime during the night, and was asleep beside me on the mattress in his boxers, body half wrapped in a sheet.

I uncapped a bottle of water from the flat we’d stashed in the tent and took a long drink. It was warm, too, and I unzipped the tent window to let in a bit of breeze before laying back down with a sigh.

The feelings from last night were still the same.

I'd been such an ass....

But I couldn’t turn away from the one constant in my life, not when I needed him so badly. I’d put up with his boyfriends, with whatever he wanted to do.

He was worth it.

Pushing away any remaining misgivings, I closed my eyes and turned towards Larry, fitting myself up against his back and giving a soft sigh at the warmth and desire that washed through me at the feel of his form against mine. It had been far, far too long since I’d been close to him, and I let myself revel in the strength of his body, at the scent of his skin as I pressed my lips to the back of his neck. It was sweltering in the tent, probably too hot to be doing this, but my resolve was completely shattered. I needed him too much to pull away.

Larry gave a soft, sleepy noise, stirring from sleep and pressing back against me. His hand reached back to find mine, pulling my arm more around him, fingers twining with mine. “Mm... Ben....”

I gave a soft hum of confirmation in reply, lost in how good it was to nuzzle his skin, breathing deeply as I nestled my face into the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Larry murmured, shuddering a little in my embrace, and I gave a soft noise of dismay in return, pressing a kiss under his ear.

“Don’t be. I’m sorry I’ve been so hard to deal with. I don’t want to push you away, Lar. I don’t want to give up on music and I don’t want you anywhere but here, with me. I’m just a moody asshole. I’m sorry you have to put up with me.”

He shook his head wordlessly, turning in my arms to tangle himself in my embrace, one hand slipping up into my hair to urge my mouth to his. I certainly didn’t need the urging, capturing his full lips with my own, a soft groan deep in my throat. I was already achingly, almost embarrassingly hard, rocking against his hip as I claimed his mouth again and again, needing to lose myself completely to passion and desire and _him_. “Fuck, I missed you so much, Lar.”

He drew a shuddering breath against my mouth, shifting closer to me and hooking a thigh over my hip to press closer. I could feel how hard he was against my hip and the knowledge of it made me feel almost desperately aroused, barely able to hold back from tearing off the rest of our clothes and having my way with him. I forced myself from his mouth to kiss down his neck hungrily, tasting the salt on his skin and the overwhelming familiarity of Larry. The air felt almost stifling, and everywhere we touched was even warmer, our skin slick from sweat, but damn if I could remember ever being more turned on in my life.

Larry drew a sharp hiss through his teeth as I bit at the crook of his neck, worrying it with my teeth and then licking gently to soothe. His fingers clenched at my back, body bucking up against mine. “Oh fuck, Ben....!”

“Want you so bad,” I breathed, nipping at the skin under his ear. Larry gave a little needy groan, groping for a small bag at the edge of the bed and pulling open a zippered pocket.

“Told you that fucking’s always an option,” he replied breathlessly, pressing supplies into my hand.

I caught his mouth with a low groan, hips bucking against his a little involuntarily. “You planned for this?”

“Hoped,” Larry breathed in return, one hand smoothing down my back to cup and knead at my ass. “Never stopped wanting you, Ben.”

“Me too,” I admitted, drinking in his kisses and wondering how I could have ever turned away from this. I managed to shift enough to yank down his boxers, helping him kick them off, then let myself kiss down his chest and abs, reveling in the firm strength of his body under my hands and mouth.

When I drew my tongue up the length of his erection he gave a little choked gasp, fingers tangling in my hair, urging more. “Fuck, Ben - !”

I took him in my mouth without hesitation, groaning around him at the feel of the hard shaft of his cock against my tongue, the salty bitter slick of arousal that leaked from the tip. I knew so well how to please him, how to make him gasp and curse and writhe under me as I sucked him. I worked one slick finger into the heat of his body, fucking him slowly until I could work in a second, teasing up against his sweet spot as I fucked him.

“Stop - stop, fuck, Ben - !” An urgent yank at my hair made me pull back, and Larry wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, squeezing hard as he tried to catch his breath. I gave a soft, pleased chuckle, nuzzling his chest as I moved back up over him.

“You didn’t have to stop me,” I murmured, licking up his neck, and Larry gave a soft, helpless laugh.

“I want to come with you inside me,” he murmured, and I drew a sharp breath, fighting down a rush of desire.

I fumbled with my boxers, kicking them off. “Not gonna last long if you talk like that.”

“Come on and fuck me then.” He urged me on top of him, finding the condom on the mattress and tearing it open with his teeth. “God, Ben, please....”

“Oh my fucking Christ, Larry.” I couldn’t obey fast enough, pulling his hips up and starting to press into him, gasping at the tight heat of his body, the way he tensed and shuddered under me and around me as I rocked deeper in slow thrusts. “Oh god. Fucking hell Larry, Oh fuck....” I dropped my head to his shoulder and bit down at his collarbone in an effort to control myself, groaning as Larry gave a breathless cry and bucked up against me, pushing me deeper. “You’re so fucking tight - !”

Larry let his head fall back, heels pressed into my sides. “God yes. Hard, Ben. Fuck - !”

I answered his plea with a hard thrust of my hips, letting go and using him as hard and as fast as my body screamed for. I grit my teeth and shifted until I felt him clench around me, until each thrust pulled a breathless, desperate cry from his lips. It was hot and hard and frantic and so fucking good, and I realized I was telling him so, breathlessly from between clenched teeth. “Oh fuck Lar, nothing like this, nothing as good as fucking you, god - !”

“Ben - !” Larry bucked up against me with a choked cry, fingers digging into my back almost painfully as he came apart, coming slick and hot between us. It broke the last shred of my self-control, and I cried out breathlessly against his skin as I bucked hard into him, passion cresting, eclipsing everything but the pleasure of being one with him.

It took a few moments to come back to myself, lying limply over top of him as I caught my breath. Larry’s fingers unclenched from my back and one slid up into my hair, running his fingers through it again and again. He gave a little incredulous moan. “Holy fuck.”

“Uhh.” I managed a soft noise in agreement, not wanting to move.

“I think that was the most frantic sex I’ve ever had,” he said aloud, still almost incredulous.

I laughed soundlessly. “Sorry. Usually have more finesse.”

“Fuck no, that was....” Larry swallowed hard. “Just what I needed.”

I nodded silently, nuzzling his neck and feeling a little more myself. “It’s been... way too long.”

“Yeah,” Larry agreed quietly, pressing his lips to my hair. We stayed like that for a while until the heat finally made me pull away. Larry produced a garbage bag and a box of baby wipes, but wrinkled his nose. “God, we’re a mess. Whose great idea was it to go on vacation in the desert, anyway?”

I laughed, leaning over to kiss him. “Let’s go into town where they have showers and cold beer and air conditioning. We can come back tonight and light a fire and jam and drink and fuck. In whatever order we want.”

His answering smile was adorable. “Best vacation ever.”

In the end, I was glad he’d brought my acoustic. It was like giving in and being with him had broken through some kind of barrier I’d built up when Amy’d left. Or maybe I just started to remember why I’d started this all in the first place. We spent a few days camping - which were thankfully cooler than the first day - doing a few small hikes and playing music but mostly in bed together, reconnecting. After that it was a mutual decision to go back to Vegas, where a few phone calls landed us the privacy of a hotel villa to fuck in luxury. A few more phone calls and friends in the scene were taking us out to clubs with a thousand dollar bottle service and strippers of both sexes clad in diamond studded lingerie.

But the only thing I cared about was that the night always ended with Larry in my arms.

Curling around him one afternoon after long, slow sex, I nestled my face into his neck. “We should call Bruce when we decide to head home. See if he has room for a set.”

“I’d like that.” Larry’s arms tightened around me, and I felt his lips press to my temple. “Welcome home, Ben.”

“Mmmm.” I gave a little contented sigh of agreement, wishing I could tell him that home had nothing to do with music and everything to do with him.

  
***


	7. The Tex-Ass Lounge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I picked John up, quite literally, in a bath house, not realizing he was there to perform at the adjoining lounge. As soon as I heard him sing I new I'd found our new vocalist.

It had been a gamble, dragging my heart broken best friend across the continent to go camping at Joshua Tree. I knew that it would either jar Ben from his post-divorce funk, or drive him even farther away from me than he already was. I tried not to spend too much time thinking about the second option. Ben Carson had been the central point in my life for years, since we’d met in middle school. Everything we’d done in music had always been together, and the thought of starting over without him chilled me to the bone.

I loved Ben far more than I could ever admit to him. 

Thankfully, my fears proved unfounded. Ben and I reconnected musically and physically, and when we returned to New York we both threw ourselves back into music. We waited through the legalities of the dissolution of our former band, “The Reflections”, and started to compose new material together. Money wasn’t a huge concern; Ben sold the apartment he’d shared with Amy and moved into the loft above his father’s recording studio in Queens. I got a good chunk of cash for my overpriced Manhattan micro-loft and rented a tiny bedroom from a gay couple I’d known for years. Between my time in the studio with Ben and my time in the beds of the various lovers I kept in the city, I didn’t really need any more living space than that. We were both still getting decent royalties, and I could easily find session work as a drummer whenever I needed a bit of extra cash.

Part of me badly wished that I could just move in with Ben, even though I knew what a bad idea it would be. While Ben and I went to bed together on a regular basis, he’d made it clear when we were teenagers that it was all he was looking for. I wasn’t so stupid as to risk the best creative collaboration of my life by pushing a relationship on him. So whenever I found myself wanting too much and feeling too deeply, I quietly took myself away and indulged in casual sex until my heart calmed down.

It was one such indulgence that brought John Murdoch into my life.

Ben and I had been composing late into the evening, and I forced myself to ignore the disappointment in his eyes when I left. I knew that if I stayed we’d end up in bed, and while it was what I was very much wanted, it was bad idea. He’d dated a few women since his split with his ex-wife and our former bassist, and it was only a matter of time before he found someone he was serious about. I couldn’t let my heart get broken when that happened. So I made my way to one of the bath houses I had membership at, a discreet little number attached to the Tex-Ass lounge, rented a room, and let myself relax in their large wet sauna.

The bath house was quiet, but I wasn’t concerned. Traffic would migrate over from the lounge as the evening show ended, and I enjoyed being able to sit and relax and watch my prospects as they came in.

People started trickling in just after midnight. I was considering approaching a tattooed, rockabilly looking hottie when three men entered the sauna. Two looked to be in their forties, and were louder and probably more intoxicated than they should have been to be granted access to the bath house. They were persistently trying to chat up a fine featured young man with dark curls and piercing green eyes. I could see a hint of panic in those eyes when they locked with mine. Then it was hidden by a broad smile, and he crossed the room to settle himself on his lap as if we were familiar friends. “Darling! There you are!”

I pulled him close without question, wrapping my arms around him and pulling his face to mine for a warm kiss. He tasted of some kind of fruity cocktail, and sighed through his nose as he relaxed against me. “You’re late,” I told him as our lips parted, ready to play into his charade. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d rescued a pretty twink from unwanted affections. I wasn’t the bodybuilder that some gay men were, but I ran religiously, and drumming had built great muscle tone on my 6’1” frame. I could be very imposing when I wanted to.

“Do you have a room?” He whispered, then replied louder, “I’m sorry darling. The performance, you know. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I gave a small nod. “You’d better.” I wrapped one arm around his waist as we stood. Keeping myself between him and the other men, I pulled him out the door, watching them for trouble out of the corner of my eye. 

They let us leave, but the dark haired man pressed closer to me once we were in the hall. “Your room, please,” he whispered, eyes darting nervously back behind us. He kept glancing back as we walked, finally relaxing somewhat once I’d pulled him into the small room I’d rented and turned the lock on the door.

“Those guys giving you trouble?” I asked softly, and he let out a long breath, wrapping his arms up around my neck and sagging against me.

“Sometimes my admirers are a bit too persistent,” he murmured, shivering a little. “One of those two got very handsy in with me at another club and tried to… Well, no matter. I probably shouldn’t have come here tonight but I really, really wanted to get fucked….” He raised his head, then, meeting my gaze with a smile that was halfway between shy and inviting. “I’m John.”

“Larry,” I replied, trying to keep my mind on his words instead of the inviting press of his form against mine. “John, you should say something to the proprietors. Everyone has a right to be safe here.”

“Maybe on the way out,” he agreed amicably, stroking his fingers up into my hair. He bit his bottom lip briefly, teasingly, as his smile widened. “Thanks for helping me out, Larry. I really, really appreciate it….”

I let my hands smooth down the expense of his bare back to cup his towel clad ass, leaning in to nuzzle his jaw. “Don’t feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to,” I murmured, pressing an open mouth kiss to his throat and feeling his pulse fluttered under my lips.

John tilted his head back submissively, fingers tightening in my hair as he gave an appreciative hum. “What I really want to do is you, handsome,” he breathed, his hips rocking up against mine in an unmistakable display of desire. Denying him was the last thing on my mind.

I took his face in my hands and pressed him back against the locked door, bringing my mouth to his without restraint. The way John moaned into my mouth as our lips slid against each other in hungry kisses was intoxicating, and the way he squirmed against me was even more so. I let myself feast on his mouth, stroking my hands hungrily over his softly muscled biceps and down his sides, arching closer as he bit down at my bottom lip. I was hard in no time, and rocked up against him, feeling his erection through the folds of towel that had quickly come unwrapped from around my waist. John reached between us to grab both his towel in my own, pulling away and tossing them blindly onto the bed. He groaned most gratifyingly as the length of his cock rubbed against mine.

My skin was still damp and hot from the sauna, and I grabbed his hip to hold him still as I gave a hard thrust against him, a shudder of pleasure arcing up my spine at the slide of his cool skin on my erection. I kissed along his jaw to nip at his earlobe, breathing hot against his skin. “You still want to get fucked tonight, handsome?”

“It would be most kind of you,” he replied, wrapping one thigh up around my hips as he rutted up against me. “Oh fuck, please?”

The room was tiny, barely bigger than the vinyl covered foam pad that formed the bed. I didn’t even have to pull away to grab one of the individual packets of lube from the shelf on the wall, squeezing some on my fingers and watching his green eyes flutter closed as I stroked them over his asshole. I could go either way when it came to sex, but I loved topping men like him, beautiful, sensual boys who gave themselves over to pleasure without restraint. I worked two fingers into the heat of his body, carefully, dotting his mouth with soft kisses as I spoke. “I’ll fuck you anyway you like, green eyes. Gonna make you feel so good…”

“Just don’t hold back.” John gasped as I twisted my fingers inside him, shuddering against me with a little desperate whine. “God, now. I’m good for it.”

It only took a moment for me to grab a condom from the shelf, tearing it open with my teeth and rolling it down the length of my cock. John twisted open another package of lube, eyes narrowing as he slicked me. “Can’t wait to have this gorgeous cock inside me…”

I grinned and hooked my arm under his thigh, grabbing his ass and pushing him back against the door. “Get your legs around my waist, then. Gonna fuck the hell out of you.”

John drew a sharp gasp, then returned my grin brilliantly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and bracing himself back against the door as he did exactly as I’d asked. It only took a moment for me to find my balance, and I groaned as I pushed up into the heat of his body, sheathing myself with one hard thrust and echoing his cry of pleasure. John’s fingers dug into my shoulders as his head fall back against the door. “Oh my God, Larry! Fuck!”

“Anything you want,” I gasped, starting up a quick, brutal pace, hips snapping into him again and again. Each thrust drove a cry of pleasure from his lips, and his gasps encouragements quickly became nonsensical from passion.

“Oh God yes - fuck, so good – gorgeous - yes, fuck, just like that – Ah! Fuck!” John’s clear tenor was throaty with sex, and his obvious pleasure fueled mine. I kept up the pace, trying to hold my own orgasm at bay as I fucked up into him, nipping at his throat.

“This what you wanted?” I managed to gasp. “Just wanted - gentleman with a nice big cock - to turn you into a little whore?”

“God!” John bucked tense against me, clenching around my cock and shuddering as he came in hot spurts between us. It only took me a moment longer to finish, burying myself in the heat of his ass as my pleasure crested, and in that moment the only thing on my mind was the beautiful man in front of me.

John whimpered softly as I eased away from him and set him back down on solid ground. I pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth before pulling away to trash the condom, then sat down on the bed and held out an arm. “Pillow talk?”

John grinned and joined me, curling up against my side as I lay back and nestling his head on my shoulder. “I like pillow talk. I like hot sex more. Mmm, Larry, that was fabulous. Much hotter than I’d hoped for.”

I chuckled, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Glad to be of service for a pretty boy like you.” Then I found myself continuing. “I’ll do that anytime you’d like.”

John raised his head to look down at me, green eyes bright with mischievousness. “Ooh, you mean I could get fucked like that on a regular basis? I’d be completely okay with that. But if you want to be my fuck buddy, you’re good have to come to my show, mister.”

He was adorable, and in the aftermath of sex I felt more than amicable. “Sure. When?”

“Here, tomorrow night. I go on at ten thirty. Call time at ten. You should meet me here at nine.” His eyebrows quirked. “Help me get ready. I’ll even do a song for you, handsome.”

I suddenly took note of the smudges of eyeliner that remained around his eyes and felt a shock of alarm at what I’d agreed to. “You do drag?”

John broke down into peals of laughter. “Oh god no. No, I’m not going to make you sit through a drag show. I sing. Like, real singing. Saturday and Sunday here, Wednesdays in West Village, and on Thursdays and Fridays I bartend and croon some good old country music at Flaming Saddles, Coyote Ugly style.”

I could easily imagine a pretty little thing like him belting out both show tunes and country. “I’m intrigued. All right, I’ll be here.”

“Excellent.” He leaned forward to brush his lips against mine. “Wanna walk me to the train? Just in case my admirers are still hanging around?”

I returned the kiss, letting my lips linger. “Sure. I want to be upfront with you, though. I’m not looking for anything serious.”

John sat up, finding his towel and giving me a wink. “Good, because the only serious thing I’m looking for is seriously good sex.”

That was something I was more than happy to indulge in with him when we met up the next night. John approached sex with an unbridled passion that I was happy to meet, losing myself in carnal indulgence that made me forget about everything else except for being with him. I almost wished that he didn’t have to perform, just so we could keep fucking.

John tucked a drink ticket into my hand as we parted at the entrance to the lounge, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Grab a table near the front, I’ll come find you after the show. Oh yeah, what’s your poison?”

I glanced down at the drink ticket. “Whiskey?”

He laughed. “No, silly. Musically. I’m gonna do a song for you, remember?”

“Hm. Something modern rock, maybe. Sing your favorite rock song for me.”

“Done.” John’s hand slipped down to give my ass a friendly squeeze, and then he disappeared into the back.

I bought a couple of drinks and found a small table in the second row, off to one side. I was surprised to see the place fill up quickly, unexpectedly busy for a Sunday night. Soon enough the house lights dimmed, and the man at the keyboards started to play what sounded like an Adam Lambert song as John waltzed into the spotlight, instantly drawing all attention in the room. He was dressed in a black suit and matching Fedora with a purple sequined band on it that matched his shirt, like the bastard child of Frank Sinatra and a Vegas showgirl. Makeup had edged his green eyes in smoky black liner with something shiny powdered over top of it, and it made him even more striking. Then, with a sultry pout that would have made Glambert proud, John started to sing.

“ _There he goes, my baby walks so slow! Sexual tic-tac-toe, yeah, I know we both know it isn't time, no~ but could you be m-mine?_ ”

Drink forgotten, I leaned back in my chair and stared. I’d been involved in music since high school, I’d heard hundreds of guys who could sing and twice as many who only thought they could. It was immediately obvious to me that John had both raw talent and extensive vocal training. His clear tenor was both powerful and controlled, and he danced through the high notes that I knew even Glambert didn’t try to tackle live.

What the hell was a guy with a voice like this doing singing in bath houses?

I was sure the crowd would’ve been spellbound from his voice alone, but that didn’t stop him from strutting along the front of the low stage to interact with the audience, turning his pretty green eyes on one man after another. He moved to the music like the dance was natural, fluid and sensual, and I couldn’t look away.

Over the course of the next hour John took us through the requisite show tunes, sprinkled with everything from David Bowie to country to, surprisingly, Guns and Roses. His vocal range and flexibility was astounding. I was so caught up in his performance that I managed to order two more drinks without hardly realizing it; something, I reflected, that the servers had likely become very proficient at wringing from the attentive crowd.

John stripped off the hat and jacket as the show progressed, finally pulling off the sequined top to leave him wearing nothing but a tightfitting mesh shirt. It seemed to be highly appreciated by the men in the audience, who eagerly tucked bills into his belt as he moved to the crowd, perching on the occasional lap to croon into some lucky man’s ear. I could see why he’d had problems with admirers getting too handsy. 

John paused for a moment after finishing rendition of ‘20th Century Boy’ that was far sexier than I’m sure T.Rex had ever intended it to be, taking a long drink of water before approaching the microphone stand. “A friend in the audience asked me to sing my favorite rock song for him tonight. So this one goes out to anyone who’s ever had their heart broken.”

Even played on the keyboard, I recognized the song instantly, the first bars of the intro making my heart stop. I’d never expected him to sing one of our songs, let alone this one that meant so much to me….

_“And it starts sometime around midnight, at least, that’s when you lose yourself for a minute or two…”_

I hadn’t heard the song since the last time we’d played it live, before Peter and Amy had run off. It had never been easy for me to hear it, though it had been one of our biggest hits. I’d written the lyrics in secret shortly after Ben and Amy had gotten serious, pouring out my heart break in poetry and letting them believe that the lyrics were Peter’s.

The emotion in John’s voice was more raw and real than Peter had ever managed, and he deftly changed the gender of the songs object, far closer to my original words than he could’ve known. _“The room’s suddenly spinning, he walks up and asks how you are. So you can smell his cologne, you can see him lying naked in your arms….”_

I drained my drink and closed my eyes for a moment, letting his words wash over me, the emotion in his voice echoing the pain in my heart. Everything I wanted, craved, longed for and couldn’t have; John sang about it as if it was his own. I felt my heart break all over again, though simultaneously he put it back together again, assuring me with the depth of feeling in his notes that he somehow knew and completely understood my grief. It was something I’d never experienced before, and I realized that I was more grateful for it than I ever could’ve anticipated.

He finished the song to thunderous applause, but I couldn’t stay and listen anymore. Grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair, I slipped out onto the street and lit a cigarette, leaning back against the building and trying to stop my hand from shaking.

How on earth had he chosen that song? I was certain that John hadn’t recognized me from being in the band; I’d had my fair share of encounters with fans and even the ones who tried to keep it cool hadn’t been as innocently clueless as he. Regardless of how effectively I’d watched him work and manipulate the crowd, I was certain he hadn’t been faking it with me.

I was on my second cigarette when I heard his voice as he rounded the corner of the building. “There you are! Come smoke at the back, everyone’s gonna be leaving in a minute.” He looked slightly worried as I joined him. “You missed my grand finale. You okay, handsome?”

“Do you know who I am?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

John raised an eyebrow. “A… really sexy ginger man with a beautiful mouth and a gorgeous dick?”

I let out a soft laugh despite myself, leaning back against the building and taking another drag of my cigarette. “It was a good show, John. Really good. Are you planning to do this for the rest of your life?”

John shrugged, stealing my cigarette from my fingers and taking a drag before handing it back. “Not sure, it’s kind of just money right now, you know? I really want to do Broadway, but the money’s way better here compared to chorus pay. Figured if I could make a name for myself it might open some doors.” He’d thrown his suit jacket back on over the mesh top, and closed it more tightly around him, shivering a little in the night air. “Why?”

“Tell me why you picked that song to sing for me,” I asked in response, watching him closely.

John grinned. “Because I can sing it better than the band can.”

I raised an eyebrow, flicking away my cigarette. “Really?”

John’s smile softened, and he glanced away. “You told me to sing my favorite. The first time I got my heart broken... that song really helped me through it. Kinda means a lot to me.”

“Do you know who wrote it?” I asked softly.

I couldn’t detect any hint of guile in his wide green eyes. “Yeah, it’s by The Reflections. You like them?”

Wordlessly I pulled out my phone, flipping through my photos until I found one of our latest tour posters showing Ben and I with Peter and Amy. I handed it to him.

John glanced down at the phone, and visibly did a double take. Then he squinted up at me, and stared at the phone again. “Holy shit. That’s… you’re… Well, fuck me sideways. I didn’t know you were gay. Well obviously _you’re_ gay, I just didn’t know that…. I thought your wife ran off with the singer?”

“Ben’s wife,” I corrected him, pocketing the phone and snorting at the idea that I could have had anything with Amy. “Don’t ever mention that to him or talk about it anywhere near him.”

“Sure,” he replied, looking a little dazed. Then he caught my gaze again, suddenly anxious. “That was your song, then. Did I do okay?”

“I’ve never heard it sung with more skill or emotion,” I answered, and as I spoke John’s smile was sweeter and more real than anything I’d seen from him before. ”Thank you, John.”

“I just really love it,” he replied, still smiling as he looked down at his shoes. “I honestly didn’t know you were in the band. “

“I want you to be in the band,” I said, voicing the idea that had formed in my mind as soon as he began to sing, solidified more with every note. “Ben and I are starting over. Almost all of the composition was he and I, we already have half an album written. We need someone to sing for us, and with your talent and stage presence you’re completely wasted here, John.”

I watched John’s eyes grew wider as I spoke. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I am. Come with me tomorrow and sing for Ben. As soon as he hears you he’s bound to agree with me. If you’re interested.”

“I’m sure as hell fucking interested,” he replied, grinning. “You really think I can be a rock star?”

“I think that with a voice like yours we’ll be more famous than we ever were as The Reflections.”

“Then I’m totally down.” John threw his arms around my neck, pulling me into a warm kiss, and for a long moment I enjoyed it, stroking my hands up the back of his coat and over the thin mesh to cover the small of his back. Then I pulled away, regretfully.

“There’s one more thing, though. We can’t keep fucking if you join the band. I hope you can understand?”

John pouted, but nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense. Artistic sacrifices and all that. Probably won’t be able to tell the truth about how we met either, right?”

I smiled ruefully and nodded. “I have to be a bit more discreet about my preferences and partners when I’m in the public eye. But it’s never been a burden. And the fame, John… playing to the crowd of so many people and feeling their hearts’ beat in time to the rhythm of our music… it’s like nothing else.”

“I can’t wait,” he breathed, then stroked his arms up around my neck again. “Hey… I’m not in the band yet, right? What are your plans right now?”

I looked down at the crook of his eyebrow and the invitation of his smile, feeling myself mirror it. “My plans are to take you home with me and fuck you in five different positions before waking up tomorrow morning and doing it all over again.”

John gave a soft little moan in the back of his throat, body arching against mine as he claimed my mouth hungrily. “Perfect,” he breathed, and I suddenly realized that neither of us were going to get any sleep at all.

***


	8. Ziggy Stardust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Larry had picked me up in a New York bath house, quite literally, not finding out until afterwards that I was there to perform in the adjoining bar.... All it took for Larry to convince Ben that I was "just what they needed" was for met to belt out a few verses of 'Sweet Child O' Mine'."

 

**Ziggy Stardust**

***

 

I was already in a bad mood when Larry called me at the studio, an hour late to our practice. I clicked on my cell phone with a frown. “Hey. Where the fuck are you?”

“Alarm malfunction, I’m so sorry. But Ben, I found our vocalist. I’m bringing him with me.”

“What?” It wasn’t like my best friend to be late, or to spring something like this on me. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Our vocalist. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him. He sings at the Texas Lounge. He’s good.”

Texas Lounge? The name tugged at my memory. It was actually the “Tex-Ass Lounge” and joined to a fairly well known gay bath house, and I suddenly felt a surge of jealousy. I was fully aware that Larry had a very active sex life - he'd always had - and had no interest in settling down with me or anyone else, but I still didn’t like the idea of him being with other men. “Are you fucking him?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“Jesus, Ben. That has nothing to do with it. This is business. He’s a friend and he’s good. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Fine,” I replied begrudgingly, and clicked off my phone, going instead to set up my amp. I forced myself to calm down and push away the ugly knot of jealousy in my stomach. Larry wasn’t my boyfriend and wouldn’t ever be, and as much as I hated it I couldn’t take it out on random lounge singers.

When Larry walked through the door of the studio ten minutes later he was followed by a tall, striking looking man with dark curly hair and eyes a strangely compelling shade of green. Definitely the look of a potential front man, if nothing else. I gave a nod and offered a hand. “Hey. I’m Ben Carson. You sing?”

He grinned, taking my hand. “Yeah, all the time. I love it. My parents wanted me to do classical but Broadway’s so much more fun - “

“This is John Murdoch,” Larry introduced for me. “He sings more than just Broadway. He can sight read and has perfect pitch.”

“Perfect a lot of things,” John agreed with a grin, and I tried to ignore the growing impression that this pretty gay boy had nothing going on between his ears. Maybe it was just nerves. I really hoped it was nerves.

Larry seemed just as uncomfortable as I felt, and turned back to the newcomer. “Just sing something.”

“Okay.” John drew a deep breath and launched into song, his voice strong and clear and immediately filling and resonating in the small space of the studio. But the song... “ _This is Ground Control to Major Tom~ You've really made the grade! And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear...._ ”

“David Bowie?” I blurted without thinking, and John stopped with a little frown.

“He said sing something. This is what I sing.”

“He sings a lot more than Bowie,” Larry added hurriedly. “John, sing something harder.”

John gave a little shrug. “ _There he goes~ My baby walks so slow~ Sexual tic-tac-toe -_ “

Larry threw his hands up. “Not Adam Lambert!”

John took a step back. “I sing in a fucking bath house, what the hell else do you expect me to do?”

I closed my eyes for a moment and fought back a groan. “Good job, Lar. You’ve brought home Ziggy Stardust.”

“No, I - fuck!” Larry turned to grab my electric guitar off the stand, shoving it into my hands and turning on the amp, along with the small one the studio's mic was plugged into. Then he settled behind his drums. “Play ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine.’ And watch him, Ben. I’m not wrong about this.”

Even John didn’t look particularly convinced, but I started in on the intro to the song anyway, relaxing into the familiar whine of the guitar as my fingers moved over the frets. John stepped back behind the mic like he owned it, moving to the music with a fluid grace, as Larry started in with the drums, and I had to admit that this boy had a natural poise and presence that would serve the band very well.

Then he started to sing.

_“She's got a smile it seems to me_   
_Reminds me of childhood memories_   
_Where everything_   
_Was as fresh as the bright blue sky_   
_Now and then when I see her face_   
_She takes me away to that special place_   
_And if I'd stare too long_   
_I'd probably break down and cry_   
_Oh, oh, oh Sweet child o' mine_   
_Oh, oh, oh, oh Sweet love of mine...”_

I stopped playing after the first chorus and set down my guitar, walking back to him and contemplating him. I'd never heard anyone sing the song without attempting a bad impersonation of Axl Rose - somehow John brought the clear power of classical vocals to rock music and completely owned the song. Despite my misgivings, Larry was right. He was better than good, and a hundred times more talented and better looking than our previous vocalist, the asshole who’d run off with my wife. I could see him easily fitting in with the style of our music and taking us to far greater levels of success than we’d ever reached with our old band, ‘The Reflections’.

“Better?” John asked finally, and I gave a sharp nod.

“You’re good. But don’t let it go to your head. Being in a band is a lot more work than belting out show tunes to a bar full of queens. I’m setting you up with a friend for vocal lessons so you don’t fry your voice on rock and roll - “

“I’ve been in lessons since I was twelve,” John interrupted with a frown, and I snorted.

“Rock’s a different game, pretty boy. You train until my guy says you can handle it. And if you flake out or turn into a diva I’ll boot you out on your ass and Larry won’t have any say in it. Understood?”

John was still frowning, but nodded. “That’s fair.”

“Good. You give me a hundred percent and I’ll make you into a rock god, don’t ever doubt that. Are you in?”

John broke into a wide grin, excitement bright in green eyes. “Hell yeah.”

“Good. Oh, one more ground rule. No relationships with band mates.”

He nodded amiably. “I promise I won’t run off with your wife.”

Larry winced, but I found that I strangely appreciated John’s bluntness. “Good. Let’s practice.” Despite my words, I had a good feeling about John’s fit with the band. Larry and I had been working on new material as a duo for about six months, and finally it felt like it was time for us to move forward. It was time to find a manager and re-enter the music scene. I gave Larry an approving smile.

“I think it’s time to get this show on the road.”

***


	9. Front & Center

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes home after two months of touring on the west coast. When he steps out on stage for their final date in New York the last thing he expects is to see Daniel front & center.

New York was always the first and last stop of our tours. Being on home turf always seemed the best way to launch a series of performances, and after being on the road, the excitement of coming home always seemed to give me a boost of energy I needed to get through one last night.

Now, coming home to New York meant one more thing... coming home to Daniel.

I still felt the same thrill of excitement in the pit of my stomach when I thought about him as I had the first time I’d kissed him, alone in his studio late one night. Touring the West Coast was exciting, but no matter where we went and how big the crowds were, it was still sixty-seven days, thirty-five shows, sixteen radio guest spots, ten fan events and two TV spots without Daniel. Sixty-seven days of longing text messages and sneaking away at night to talk to him on the phone or over Skype. Having to wait to see him was agony, but a snowstorm delayed traffic so much that we barely got into town in time for sound check.

Our manager, Frank, caught us in the green room during the opening act. “We’re sold out at the door, gentlemen.”

“Perfect way to end a tour.” Ben Carson, our guitarist, bandleader, and primary composer, raised his beer. “Here’s to two weeks of decompression before the Christmas shows.”

It wasn’t nearly long enough, but it would do. Daniel had his work to attend to, after all. The thought of two weeks off to do nothing but relax in his company was one of the few things keeping me going. Even as extremely extroverted as I was, I was exhausted. I had no idea how the others were holding up.

“Oh, Daniel’s in the front row,” Frank said as he turned to leave. “Try not to work the crowd too hard.”

“Front row?” Ben’s eyebrows knit together. “I didn’t know he was coming. Why isn’t he in VIP? Why isn’t he here?”

Front row? I felt my pulse quicken at the thought. Daniel had been to many of our New York shows, and I was well used to him watching at the front of the stage during sound check, but he’d never struck me as the type to brave the throngs of fans at a concert.

Frank shrugged. “He said something about wanting to see his pieces in action. Don’t worry, security will keep an eye on him.”

I pulled my attention back from dirty thoughts are about getting into the crowd just to cop a feel and sent him a text instead. _’You really out front, love?’_

It took a few minutes for him to reply. _’I’ve never been hit on by so many women before in my life. Can’t wait to see you.’_

The knowledge of _Daniel_ was a better stimulant than anything else could have been, and I was buzzing with energy when we finally took the stage, ready to sing my heart out. Even under the glare of the stage lights I immediately spotted him front and center, arms looped over the barricade. He’d safely changed his glasses for contacts - his obvious resemblance to Ben probably hadn’t helped the flirting - he was still every inch my Daniel, and more than anything I wanted to pull him to me and never let go.

Performing at a rock show was much different for me than it had been when I’d been singing at the bath house. There I was eye candy, selling romance and sex and the idea that all it would take was one more drink to go home with a hot little piece of ass - or next-door. Here I felt like a conduit: passing on the   
emotion of the music to the thousands of people who watched us, to the masses of cheering, jumping, screaming people, each sharing their own personal moments of joy and sorrow and catharsis with us. It was a heady, addicting experience. With Daniel watching, I couldn’t help but push myself farther, pouring out every drop of energy and emotion into my song and feeling the crowd give it back to me tenfold.

Amidst the clamor of the crowd Daniel was a fixed point of calm, and he drew me more than anyone else in the building. Even at the other end of the stage I could feel his gaze on me; thrilling and more than a little arousing. Whenever I let myself lock eyes with him I saw my own hunger and desire reflected back to me. I felt more tortured and more alive that night that I had the entire tour.

When I returned to the dressing room before our encore, a single message blinked on my phone. _’I’m going to get your luggage. I’ll have the car waiting behind the tour bus. Come soon.’_

Didn’t have to tell me twice.

The thought of Daniel waiting for me was just as potent as his presence had been. It took every inch of self control not to bolt off stage as our final number came to an end, instead taking the time to toss my towel and water bottles into the crowd as I always did, leaning out from the edge of the stage to touch the straining hands of fans and return their ecstatic smiles.

Then I bolted.

I was nearly naked before I reached the green room, tossing my costume pieces into the bin that would go to the cleaners, pulling on street clothes and yanking a wool cap over my sweaty curls. I grabbed my coat and almost ran into Ben on the way back out.

“Whoa - you’re in a hurry.”

“Gotta see a man about a dog,” I replied with a toothy grin, hoping he wouldn’t put two and two together. “I’m so completely done, Ben. I gotta get home. Before the fans queue up. I’ve used up my absolute last ounce of extroversion, and I know coming from me that’s hard to believe, but – “

Ben snorted and gave a dismissive wave. “Go, go. We’ll debrief in a couple of days.”

It felt like I flew from the building, bolting down the back stairs and skidding across the icy pavement. Daniel’s car was running at the back of the drive, and I called to the security guards to open the gates as I dove into his passenger seat.

Daniel hardly made eye contact as he backed out onto the street, but after shifting the car into drive his hand came down to rest on my thigh, rubbing my skin restlessly through my jeans. I bit my lip on a groan and pressed closer to him, already feeling almost dizzy with arousal. “Oh God, I missed you…”

“You have no idea,” Daniel murmured in reply. He braked hard at a red light a few blocks away and threw the car into neutral again, turning to me without hesitation and grabbing the front of my coat to pull me into a hungry kiss.

I arched as close as I could over the center console in his car, sucking on his lips and tongue as I slid my hands into the front of his jacket, stroking over the warm, sweat-damp shirt that clung to his body from the heat of the concert. “Drove me crazy, seeing you in the front row, it made me so fucking hard Daniel….”

A blare of the horn from the car behind us as the light turned green stole our attention before he could reply. Daniel pulled away with a string of what sounded like unflattering German curses under his breath - something that he knew turned me on a little more than it should - , throwing the car back into drive and merging onto the highway. His fingers fumbled with my jeans at the same time, popping the button and yanking open my zipper so that he could slide his hand down into my boxers.

I bit my lip on a whimper as his fingers curled around my cock, breathing hard, rocking up into his hand despite my better judgment. “Oh fuck - aren’t you - don’t you have to drive?”

“I can drive just fine,” Daniel replied, his thumb slicking through the precome that pearled at the head of my cock. 

“Fuck!” It had been so long since I’d felt anything other than my own right hand that I almost came right then, instead biting down hard on my bottom lip as I grabbed at the arm rest on the car door. It was all I could do to keep from bracing my feet on the floor and fucking up into his fist. “Oh God, Daniel… Fuck, we shouldn’t….”

“Shh.” Daniel’s fingers twisted around my cock, wringing another whimpering cry of pleasure from my lips. “You’ve been a naughty little cock tease all night, John. And now I’m going to do whatever I want to you.”

I drew a sharp breath through my teeth. Despite how many times we’d had phone sex while I was gone, how many times I’d heard him tell me in tantalizing detail what he wanted to do with me, hearing him say it now in person as his fingers expertly worked my cock was almost too much to take. I tried to focus my attention on him and not on my desperate need to come. “And ‘whatever you want’ is giving me a hand job while you try not to drive off the road?”

Daniel glanced to me, and I caught a brief flash of the hunger in his eyes, his smile dark and promising. “Yes, I’m going to give you a hand job in my car. I’m going to make you come all over yourself and ten I’m going to take you home, tear off all your clothes and fuck you into my mattress.”

The sudden idea of Daniel fucking me was more than I could handle, and I jerked up into his fist with a sobbed cry, pleasure overwhelming me. I heard Daniel groan, low and pleased, his fingers working the last shudders of my orgasm from me before grabbing a Kleenex from the center console and passing me the box.

“Do you like that idea?” Daniel’s voice was low and a little shy, a hopeful smile playing about the corners of his mouth.

I sagged limply back against the seat, making no move for a moment to clean myself up. “Oh my God, yes. God, I really want you to fuck me. Are you serious?”

“Completely. Did you think I wouldn’t be? There’s baby wipes in the glove box also, could you please hand me one?”

I pulled myself together enough to lean forward and find them, taking his hand and using one to wipe it clean before wiping at my shirt and jeans with another. “I guess I just thought - I mean, you always say you like bottoming so much….”

“I do,” he replied, finally pulling into the parkade of his apartment building. “But I am occasionally inspired by an incredibly sexy piece of ass. Especially when he’s been strutting across the stage in front of me all night in tight leather pants.”

“You put them on me,” I couldn’t help but argue. 

Daniel chuckled as he pulled into his parking spot and shut off the car. “And this is exactly why did.”

Despite being spent, the way he looked at me made my breath catch in my throat. We grabbed my luggage, and elevator ride to his apartment couldn’t be quick enough. As soon as his front door was closed and my luggage abandoned I found myself pushed up against the door, Daniel’s lips hot and demanding on my own, his cock pressed hard against my thigh. “You were like a wet dream on stage,” he hissed, kissing along my jaw as he pulled my coat off. His fingers were cold on my heated skin as he slipped under my T-shirt, his lips leaving my neck just long enough to pull it up over my head. “The way you move, John, the way you sing, the way you look at me…”

I cried out as he bit down at the crook of my neck, frantically fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. “Seeing you there made me so fucking hard, you can’t imagine how much I wanted to jump into the crowd just so I could pull you up against me and grind against you in the middle of all those fans until we both came, fuck… Can you imagine what it would have been like if you had just pushed me over and the barrier and taken me from behind, fucked me hard right in the middle of the show….”

Daniel’s hips stuttered against mine as he cried out against my skin, fingers digging into my hips as a string of German fell from his lips. “ _Gehen wir ins Bett_. Bed. Now.”

I let myself be pulled towards his bedroom, tugging at his clothing as we moved, and by the time he’d stripped off the rest of my clothes and pushed me down onto the bed under him I was half hard again. I wrapped my thighs around his waist and rolled my hips up against him, drinking in his kisses and crying out as his fingers slipped back to stroke over my ass. “Oh God, yes. Please, Daniel, want your cock so bad….”

Daniel fumbled on the bedside table for lube, and in moments was pressing a slick finger inside me, eyes dark as he watched me gasp and writhe underneath him. “ _Mein Gott,_ you’re beautiful like this, too…”

I didn’t try and hold back my moan of pleasure as he brushed up against my sweet spot. “God, there! Oh fuck, more, Daniel please….”

Daniel drew a shivering breath as he folded a second finger with the first, then a third, stretching me open more hurriedly. “I really didn’t think you were a switch. I should have asked you sooner….”

“Oh God. How do you think I met Larry?” I pulled him down into my kisses, trying to press up against his fingers. I hadn’t been fucked since before Daniel and I had started sleeping together over a year ago, and the penetration ached a little, but I wanted it so badly that it didn’t matter. “You can fuck me whenever you want. Like now. God, now, fuck! Please…!”

Daniel pressed a hard kiss to my mouth. “Get on your hands and knees.”

I turned as he grabbed a condom, breathing hard as I braced myself against the bed, thighs spread wide, anticipation a tight churn in my stomach. In moments he was rocking inside me, pressing trembling kisses the back of my neck as the thick, flared head of his cock stretched me open.

“Oh, John… _Fühlt sich gut an_ \- beautiful, tight ass….”

I rolled my hips back against him, groaning as he slid deeper. After spending the past two months having phone sex, encouragements fell from my lips effortlessly. “It’s all yours, darling. God, feel so good inside me… Your gorgeous thick cock fills me up so good…!”

Daniel’s hips gave a helpless buck into me, and he whined against my skin, lube slick fingers moving to curl around my erection. Each thrust of his hips seemed to pull a whimpering gasp of pleasure from his lips. “You want me to - fuck you over the barricade - in front of thousands of people?”

The idea of doing just that only added to the pleasure I felt. He shifted slightly, his thrusts rubbing harder against my prostate, and I cried out, sensation building fast. “God, yes! Fuck Daniel, I’m such a little slut for you, don’t even care who sees - God, harder!”

“As hard as you want, _mein schöne Süßer_ ,” Daniel growled against my ear, thrusts jarring my body, driving hard shocks of pleasure through me. For several breathless, tantalizing moments all that existed for me was him - the heat of him inside me and over top of me, his breath hot against my skin as he mouthed kisses along my shoulder. “ _Mein Gott_ John, I can’t - so close - !”

I cried out, bucking back against him, shuddering as I rode the edge of climax. “God, yes - come in me, Daniel, claim me, please - !”

He bit down at the crook of my neck, crying out against my skin as his hips stuttered into me, the sensations driving me over the edge. I let myself go completely to it, and after so long being apart, the joy of being with him was as overwhelmingly potent as the pleasure of orgasm.

Daniel slowly pressed soft kisses over my neck as he caught his breath, nuzzling my hair. “You’re amazing….”

I hummed happily and pressed back into him, enjoying the sensation of still being filled by his softening cock. “Mmm, _you’re_ amazing. I won’t mind going away so much if coming home means getting fucked like that….”

I expected a teasing reply. Instead Daniel sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck before easing away. “Stay here for a moment.”

I let myself rest on my forearms, turning my head to admire his naked form as he disappeared into his ensuite bathroom. In moments he returned with a wet cloth, throwing a towel down on the bed and fussing over me as I normally did over him. I took the cloth from him, tossing it into the hamper and pulling him down into my arms. “Are you okay?”

Daniel curled close to me, burying his face in my neck with a soft, shivering sigh. “Yes. Yes, I’m wonderful, that was so good, John. I just don’t want to think about you leaving again.”

I nuzzled my face into his hair and sighed, catching hold of the quilt with my foot and pulling over us. “We’ll be here recording for at least the next four months….” Even to my own ears it sounded far too short, and I tightened my arms around him. “I don’t wanna think about it either. It’s kind of funny that even though I was surrounded by people all the time I’ve never felt so lonely before in my life....”

Daniel’s fingers traced slow circles over the back of my shoulder. “I’m sure you could have found someone more than happy to keep you company.”

“And missed my evening call to you? Not worth it.” I drew back to look at him, trying to memorize his features. Frank had already started working on organizing our next tour, another two months away, this time in Europe. I should feel excited about it, but all I could think about was having to leave Daniel behind and whether or not I’d be able to talk to him at all with the time difference….

“Come to Europe with me.”

Daniel glanced down with a soft laugh. “Ben would never allow it.”

“Ben doesn’t have to know about us. You can come look after our wardrobe, it’ll be like a paid vacation. You already do some client consultations over Skype, don’t you?”

Daniel nodded slowly. “It would be nice to visit my vendors and workshop in Frankfurt,” he said slowly, then frowned. “It’s too obvious, though. Any assistant could manage your wardrobe. Ben won’t believe it.”

“I’ll wreak another costume, then. Like the white coat we had to overnight back from Los Angeles when the seam split in that stage dive. I’ll wreak it myself if I have to.”

Daniel’s eyebrows raised slightly. “You would destroy my work?”

“No! I mean, yes, but only with your permission and only in ways that are easily fixable.” I pouted, tangling my legs with his and leaning in for a slow kiss. “I don’t wanna go to Europe without you. I don’t wanna go anywhere without you. Can’t you imagine how beautiful it would be to walk along the banks of the Seine in springtime?”

“It would be beautiful,” he murmured, sliding his fingers up into my hair, kissing me, warm and lingering. ”And I would very much like to show you my home.”

“So you’ll come, then?

Daniel smiled, holding my gaze as he ran his fingertips down the side of my cheek. “I will try my best to arrange it.”

“Good.” I kissed him warmly, wrapping my arms around him tightly and hooking my thigh over his hip. “Until then I’m just not going to ever let you go.”

“I need to take care of my contact lenses….”

Making a picture of grumbling, I let go of him. “All right. But you better come right back.”

Smiling, Daniel sat up, fingers brushing my lips. “I fuck you once and you become so demanding.”

I play nipped at his fingertips. “I’ve always been demanding. Now go do your thing and come back to bed so I can start making up for being away for so long with cuddles.”

He was back soon enough, and I reveled in the feeling of his body against mine as I drifted off to sleep. 

“John?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m very happy that you’re home.”

Smiling, I tightened my arms around him. “Me too.”

~~~


End file.
